 | Currently Listening Give Up By The Postal Service see related |
As of today, I have had xanga for 1,257 days. And on this 1,257th day, I have registered for college. And although compared to the 6,750+ days that I've been on the planet this seems like a small number, it seems like so long ago. But, at the same time, it feels like yesterday. It was yesterday. One day seems to have been drawn out into 1,257 days. 1,257 days seem to have been squashed together into one day.
I think it's strange that such a long time can seem so short, but at the same moment, this short time seem so unbearably long.
I can't believe that I'm growing up. That I've grown up.
But at the same time. . .
I can't believe that I'm so young. That I'm so naive.
I never could have imagined that going away would be like this.
It's so much better than I expected. It's so much worse than I expected.
But I'm ready . . . I think.
Perhaps the only way you can really be ready is to admit that you're not.
To admit that the next step completely terrifies you and that there are times that you just want to scream in pain.
And times that you want to scream in joy.
To admit that a new life makes you more nervous than you could imagine and that at times the pressure will be unbearable.
and times when the pressure will lead you to a discovery of who you really are.
To admit that this change is huge and that at times you will miss how things used to be
and times that you will thank God that you get to experience something new.
I feel like everybody is growing up at these different rates. Rates that change daily. Where some days I will feel like I have been way too jaded by these new experiences and other days that I feel far too innocent.
It's weird to be in all these different places.
Train of consciousness-
I wonder how many people will really read this. I feel like while I write it to vent, I also think that it has some sort of poetic value to it.
I doubt that.
But maybe it does. and if so, that's great. I hope it helps people.
and if not, that's great. Because I think it helps me.
someone told me tonight that I seem like I keep a lot of secrets. and I don't know if that's good or bad.
but I feel like even if I can't vent "secrets" to others, I can vent them here. and even if nobody reads them, that's fine.
Because I will know that now they are words, now they are tangible, now they are more than just me. They are something entirely new. Even if nobody knows it.
I want to write a novel. Someday. That would be nice. Even if nobody reads it, that's fine.
It would be something more than just me. Even if nobody knew it.
love always,
jim.
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