magic trick.

I have a lot to say and nothing to say, is how I feel most of the time, for two reasons. The first being that there are only a hand full of people in the world to whom I can say what I actually think without uncomfortable silence or concerned expressions in response. The second being the fact that there are some things too delicate and complicated to share.

I want to write down my life in a truthful manner. But sometimes the truth is too much for me to swallow. Truths like seeing a loved one suffer and finding little hope they'll ever recover. Truths that tell me what I as a person am lacking, and the way my stomach turns at the thought of making efforts to change.

Becoming who you're meant to be. You expect it to be magic and things falling into place. Which, it is. But only after a whole lot of work. Anything worth it is work.

But sometimes I prefer numbness to honesty. Whatever the consequences. Numbing with TV and sugary snacks. With pity parties, excuses and my famous disappearing act. I always did have a knack for it, disappearing. Stick around long enough and you'll surely be fortunate enough to bear witness.

Every day I wage war. I contend with my natural inclinations to fear and anxiety and depression and paralysis and self-doubt.  It's like they follow just behind, waiting for me to slip up, give up. So they can catch up.

I build up walls. I tear them down. But then, inevitably, everything starts to appear to me as pointless.  I begin to wonder to myself why I even try, because nothing I do or create amounts or could compare to anything I admire. I lose the will to respond to a text or string sentences together. I feel embarrassed for my very existence. Why didn't anyone ever both to tell me how pathetic I am? I need to hide. I build the walls up again, into this comfortable little prison. I hate myself for it. I break myself out. But then, pointlessness.

Good gosh, this is cryptic.

What I can say, though, is that I need to get my wisdom teeth out. And the crown my dentist most recently put on one of my molars is too big and hurts to chew on. But I keep putting it off. Also, someone recently stole my purse. Just smashed the window of the car and took it with my wallet and punch cards and favorite lip sticks and the iPod I've had since I was 18. What's funny is that everyone I told, after I said to them, Someone stole my purse, their immediate reaction would be to ask, Who?! Obviously, if I knew who I'd probably have my crap back by now. But also I know they don't really mean who, they just want to know what happened, details. That's all any of us want. 

Other than their iPod back. Dick.

Also, I was somewhat humiliated at work recently, after I interviewed for another position. My supervisor met with me and said, basically, Listen, I want to recommend you. But you've sort of been sucking at your current job lately, so how am I supposed to do that?

And, you know what? Touche, supervisor. So I tried harder and another position sort just of fell into my lap.

So, this is what's sucky and also magical: you have no control and no way of knowing what is coming. You just have to trust that your existence is positively boiling over with possibilities. Like a pot of abandoned pasta. To trust that the good thing is....there. Somewhere. Beyond the point that your limited vision is able to reach. All you can do is make sure you're deserving of said good thing. Once it decides to arrive.