We all make choices and are always told the ones worth it are never easy. I've made my choice to live a life alone while I chase what I know is mine. Each lesson, each practice session, I feel the difference, despite as small as it may be. Yesterday Prof. Brown even said...Patience over frustration. We play one of the hardest instruments, nothing is going to develop overnight.But we're allowed to have our bad weeks, right?This entire week kicked me in the chest. I started it with a fever, which lead to dizziness and exhaustion, and eventually taking a toll on my mental health. I don't like the feeling of going crazy, pretty sure no one does, but its like some demon that creeps into me when I feel alone. I'll sit here, staring at the walls. The music will be playing from itunes and not even be absorbed, which is what scares me the most.
Today was the first time I've talked to my mother for days, and like always, she knew something was wrong...even if I didn't want to accept it. Have you ever watched that Dane Cook skit where he talks about having the weight of the world on your shoulders and just letting it out when you're finally alone in your apartment?I find that one to be one of his funniest skits, because its the pure truth. To me there's a difference between physically alone...and just not being wanted.
I'm fine with being physically alone. Part of the reason I've been in a funk is because with this alone time I enjoy reflection amongst nature, even if its as simple as walking around listening to an Ipod. I can't do that here. I don't own an ipod, and this isn't exactly the neighborhood I want to walk around. Despite having people in the states that care about me, there's no one here. Well, let me rephrase that...no one that cares enough to make the initiative unless they are related to me or over the age of 35. I don't like being a guest but I enjoy adventure. Everyone is so nice to me here, yet they live their own lives, no one includes me in it. I don't have someone randomly iming me, or texting me to invite me out on shenanigans. And of course , if you know me,it's hard to make friends in general...let alone in a different language. Which on my defense...I've stepped over a lot of comfort lines while I've been here in a desperate attempt, and like always...these risks lead to nothing. Social risks never work out in my life, only personal. I guess tis why I know that I was one of the few that really have to chose between the two.
If I was to move back to Richmond at this very moment I think my social life would be better than it's been in a while. A nice smooth ride for a while after a long vacation. But that would lead me nowhere in life. ( Don't worry...quitting and returning is nowhere in my mind, tis just an emphases on things.) I just get tired sometimes, thats all. During this crying session with my mother she asked me if this was all because I missed home. I had to answer honestly, and luckily my own mother knows me so she wasn't offended, when asked I repsonded with "I'm just bored." Boredom has always been my demon, perhaps because by keeping busy I don't have time to think.
Thinking is the worst weapon of destruction we can have. Earlier in the week I randomly got into a discussion ( I think because partially I was my bitter old self since I haven't been feeling well..a part of me I've been trying to avoid for months now) about "love". In response to a novel I practically responded with, he stated that I'm allowed to have my opinion on something I'm so "passionate" about. I'm not really passionate about the subject, I think I'm more envious of the fact I never experienced the pure feelings that are meant to be tainted.I went straight to hurt.I was never given that chance to have some summer fling, or teenage love affair, therefore I was never given the chance to experience that kind of heartache. I leaped over it and straight to bitter.
I was also never that stereotypical bookworm that didn't try, I think thats where I went wrong. I did take those risks, just rejected every time.After ten years of trying, I got tired, and just stopped. My mother even said today that she was discussing with someone that I'm "picky". How am I picky if for every guy I dislike there's at least 6 others I'm attracted to. Of course she was discussing my current situation which legit pisses me off. I've never thought I'd be pissed off to have guys actually attracted to me....but how am I suppose to feel ok about myself if they're always the ones I have no interest for in the first place. I KNOW that's a bitchy statement....but shouldn't I be allowed to at least have some standards? Sure I know I can't get the hottie, or the "cool" kid...but at least let me get something I want....ya know?
This is all a rant, another open page of my diary, perhaps for whoever reads this to have a little more understanding of who I am...another process of this growing up thing, putting it all up there because obviously the "mystery" thing doesn't work well for the one who rarely speaks.
But as I said at the beginning...this loneliness I guess is the price I've paid to sell myself to a dream. Eventually I'll know why I did it. Tomorrow starts a new week and though it may be raining, the sun is just hidden behind the clouds.
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