I was hoping to write an entry with a little more depth tonight. I thought a good way to do that would be to find some good song lyrics that I could blockquote then sit and discuss how they related to my life of late.
But when I went looking for lyrics I realized that I am not feeling anything. Nothing. No happiness, no sadness, just nothing. I never know quite what to do with myself in such a mood. Sometimes I wonder if I am even still there but the confirmation comes that I am. I don't quite feel like myself. Well I don't even feel like anything so how could I feel like myself?
Which explains the shallow rapidity supplemented by gentle bites of my weak wit that has permeated my entries of late. It explains the reluctance to write emails I think. No. No that's just procrastination. Although there is a sliver of it pushed by me not knowing quite what to write. I feel nothing, hardly myself, thus there is nothing for me to write about. Nothing to say.
Today I try to supplement substance with wordy eloquence. I am trying to be more intrusive than I could possibly be in this mood. But I think I am trying so hard with the hope that I might connect or awaken some feelings inside of me. I doubt that will happen. It saddens me just a little. Isn't that feeling? Well not quite. I couldn't even describe it. It is on the same plane as the disgusting complacency of being in this state. Wondering if I really want my feelings back. Wondering if I wouldn't rather dwell in this state forever and on.
*sigh* I have felt this way before. I have even written of it. It all circles around. The same thing over and over. The same path to tread. But although it is the same path, I am a little different than I was last time, the nothing ness is just a little different, the road is also known to me.
I suppose I couldn't really pinpoint the significance of that. I must reiterate that it is far deeper and more intrusive than the shallow waters I wade in of late. I cannot simply plunge in deeper either. It isn't a thing to be forced.
Perhaps a better way to look at this is not me wading into the water, but the tides flooding my section of the beach.
I tried to sort that one out but made it work both ways. Dear me but if I can't even make a decent, sensible metaphor...*trails off*
I give in. My hands are thrown up in utter defeat. I am lost in this matter. I am wholly and thoroughly confused. I am far out of my element in this. Drowning in shallowness? Wading in shallow waters? What? Contradictions? Aren't we full of them though. It isn't that I do not understand. It is that I understand too much. I overthought. I am simply not up to this. I am sloshing in the muds of the earth. The sky is dark and cloudy above me. I strain and stretch but cannot find the stars where I choose to make my home. I seem to be stuck. I cannot fly back up. I cannot reach the clouds. My feet miss them. Wouldn't the clouds at least disperse a little. I ask simply one star to glimmer on my face as I labor to extract myself from the muck. But all I recieve is more and darker clouds to futher obstruct my vision.
GED and license and job and car and college...I can't blow them away. I don't know if I am ready or if I would rather fly to Never Never land where I could stay 17 forever. Where I could run through meadows and wade through streams and watch clouds and daydream to my heart's content. Is it perhaps fear? Perhaps. Quite understandable I suppose. I don't think I really want to talk about it though.
At least I made a metaphor. That comforts me somewhat. I can still relate a feeling to something wholly unconnected.
Oh dear but my heart yearns for this rhetoric to become poetry. Both can be so valuable though. I should be content where I am. Too much wine... Water is just as thirst quenching if not more... I must teach myself to be content with certain things the way they are. There can be just as much joy in one as there is in the other.
I am tired. This seems more angst now than anything. I am such a terribly confused, mistaken little girl. Let me go roll my eyes out of my head and sort myself out.
In closing, hand picked meanings for words from a flood of others to convey myself. In short, shameless manipulation of words! That isn't necessarily bad though.
Wield the words well my dear...wield them well