Monday, May 16, 2016

Life is Pain, Sure, But Not All Pain Is Life.

There was a time when I wrote several blog posts in a certain time frame, it meant I was depressed. If anyone was thinking this about now, they're wrong. I'm having the time of my life right now.

God, the feels from that song.

The song I encountered during show week. During show week, to help assure us, my theatre teacher played that song for us. The meaning, as you can tell, is obvious. It was the last show of the year, of my high school life, and I wasn't the only one crying about it. There were people there I loved, people I didn't want to leave, hence the crying by all. I'm gonna graduate soon, and this era of my life will be over. 

...How the fuck do I write about that?

To write what music has already inspired, how do I do that? With this one era of my life over, the next will also be over before my eyes, until I'm dead and can tell my story no more. 

God, I had so many more words for this in my head. I typically do, coming up with random profound thoughts on the fly, forgetting them just as quickly. I write down as much as I can, but I can't write down everything. When we finally gain the technology to copy one's mind down exactly, we can feel exactly what another person is feeling at a certain moment. Sure, we've achieved immortality via our social media and blog posts, but it's not the same as exactly what I'm feeling. I'm still internally revising within my head when I'm not drawing blanks, forcing words to come out onto the screen. They're genuine and false at the same time, as forced words usually are. 

I guess I'm mystified by the shock of my life, as anyone would be. We've all known that feeling, where we sit down and suddenly don't know how we feel or how to say how we feel. I suppose in this instance the music says it all. I'm melancholy, being forced to consider the path my life might take. I had to write a paper for English about anything, so I wrote about how instead of being a good student, I focused on being a good person. I condemn the future, instead saying to enjoy these present moments. Hypocrisy gets to the best of us, I suppose, at least in this one moment. 

Most of the time, I'm here, in the present, and I enjoy it. I'm numb to my pain, save the pain of loneliness. I suppose for every teenager, there comes a time when they have no one to love in a romantic sense. My past relationships may not have gone in the best possible way, but I don't regret them. Love's been a cycle for me: fall in love, pursue, (optional: be happy), then get crushed by some inordinate circumstance. I want love, and those around me find it, but how can I? 

My life is a comedy based in tragedy. I'm Xander Harris' source for self-esteem. My life is sad, more sad than anyone can imagine, because I consider things superficial that I don't care about, and thus I find so many things comedic, rather than tragic. Comedy and Tragedy are two sides of the same coin, and you can choose how to regard every event of your life. So many things are funny to me because I've had enough tragedy in my life. 

I live a sad life, but I'm not depressed. In life, we can choose to find exactly what we're looking for. My mother worries 24/7 about me and how on top of my life I am, while I regard it with impassive acceptance. I've always regarded my life as something I'll deal with one thing at a time. I don't worry about the big things, only ever the littlest things, because I think I'm convinced I need to worry about something. My inability to worry sets me apart, making me something else. I am about to graduate, assuming I get my English grade up, but my grades aren't my insecurity. I've finally started lacking insecurity, and it's liberating.

I'm sad, but it's the kind of sadness that struck you when you were a little kid. Sure, it's horrible and you want to die, but a minute later, it's over, and you've practically forgotten about it. 

I'm sad, but inside, I'm still growing. I'm still alive, I'm ready to love, I'm ready to live.