I found a place for this month. I moved in a bit more than a week ago.
I have a space where I can be on my own and do, create, think. All I ever wanted. Still I'm not happy. Not satisfied.
I can't stand this inner frustration, impatience, uneasyness, I don't know what is wrong, or maybe I do.
I haven't spent time looking at it.
I move all the time, physically , not really. I don't dance or do sports, I move from place to place, but not within my head.
It seems I am repeating the same route, going to the tower without getting what I need and that is killing me.
I go up the tower, I stop in the way, start wondering.
I now realize what he meant. I take a look and then I go back. A slight tiny look, a glimpse as they say, and then I turn my back to return where I started. Soon I remember I might have forgotten something. I go back. I reach until the step I was before and then a wall, the unkown, the fear, the lack of belief, the lack of courage or just boredom, the anxiety, the stress, stops me. A huge resistence raises against me, which I react to a milion times, and then I get tired. I feel that I need to take a breath but I keep pushing myself to go further. But this way doesn't go further by pushing. Instead it becomes harder and harder. My steps slower and slower and the ground turns backwards.
I stop. It stops. I'm exhausted. I go back again.
The next time I think about trying again. I abandon this thought immediately. I keep laying and thinking how unlucky I am. I am sad with my condition. With my helplessness. I blame it on the weather, on the season, the era, the world, the society, my parents, my teachers and the rest of the nature available to blame.
Whatever is in my attention span, can be blamed.
Then I get tired again. Lack of breath, lack of willingness to move on.
Still a few moments later, could be ages, days or years, I decide to try again.
I grab my bag, and then I started thinking, what do I need to take with me. I look around. Everything seems useful, I start to stuff my bag as much as possible, then I realize I can't carry it. It will be too heavy and I will get too much tired too fast. I decide to remove some stuff, to make it as light as possible, but then it's so hard to decide what do I really need, and what am I going to miss. Who knows if I will need my notebook, or my camera, my pencils, and the scissors. Anything could happen. All is useful. It's hard to leave those things back. I get desperate again and sit down in this gloomy feeling.
I can't decide.
I stay there. I get frustrated that those things keep me immobile. But then it's so hard to throw them away. Maybe I could gift them or sell them. Someone could use them. But I also need them. I might need them in some point. What if I will not be able to find them when I will need them. I need to carry them with me.
I collect as much as possible. But what about the trip. I tried to start this trip so many times and I'm still here.
Ok. I leave some stuff here and then I go. Some new will be found on the way. I don't need all this stuff.
So I go.
Girl Interrupted. I interrupt my life, or it was interrupted by all these thoughts and hesitations.
When will I get to this tower. Maybe I'm already there, and don't need to go anywhere.
Relax.
Once I met a boy, he read me a story.
One Step, wipe, one breath.
Step, wipe, breath. again
listening to this
I have a space where I can be on my own and do, create, think. All I ever wanted. Still I'm not happy. Not satisfied.
I can't stand this inner frustration, impatience, uneasyness, I don't know what is wrong, or maybe I do.
I haven't spent time looking at it.I move all the time, physically , not really. I don't dance or do sports, I move from place to place, but not within my head.
It seems I am repeating the same route, going to the tower without getting what I need and that is killing me.
I go up the tower, I stop in the way, start wondering.
I now realize what he meant. I take a look and then I go back. A slight tiny look, a glimpse as they say, and then I turn my back to return where I started. Soon I remember I might have forgotten something. I go back. I reach until the step I was before and then a wall, the unkown, the fear, the lack of belief, the lack of courage or just boredom, the anxiety, the stress, stops me. A huge resistence raises against me, which I react to a milion times, and then I get tired. I feel that I need to take a breath but I keep pushing myself to go further. But this way doesn't go further by pushing. Instead it becomes harder and harder. My steps slower and slower and the ground turns backwards.
I stop. It stops. I'm exhausted. I go back again.
The next time I think about trying again. I abandon this thought immediately. I keep laying and thinking how unlucky I am. I am sad with my condition. With my helplessness. I blame it on the weather, on the season, the era, the world, the society, my parents, my teachers and the rest of the nature available to blame.
Whatever is in my attention span, can be blamed.Then I get tired again. Lack of breath, lack of willingness to move on.
Still a few moments later, could be ages, days or years, I decide to try again.
I grab my bag, and then I started thinking, what do I need to take with me. I look around. Everything seems useful, I start to stuff my bag as much as possible, then I realize I can't carry it. It will be too heavy and I will get too much tired too fast. I decide to remove some stuff, to make it as light as possible, but then it's so hard to decide what do I really need, and what am I going to miss. Who knows if I will need my notebook, or my camera, my pencils, and the scissors. Anything could happen. All is useful. It's hard to leave those things back. I get desperate again and sit down in this gloomy feeling.
I can't decide.
I stay there. I get frustrated that those things keep me immobile. But then it's so hard to throw them away. Maybe I could gift them or sell them. Someone could use them. But I also need them. I might need them in some point. What if I will not be able to find them when I will need them. I need to carry them with me.
I collect as much as possible. But what about the trip. I tried to start this trip so many times and I'm still here.
Ok. I leave some stuff here and then I go. Some new will be found on the way. I don't need all this stuff.
So I go.
Girl Interrupted. I interrupt my life, or it was interrupted by all these thoughts and hesitations.
When will I get to this tower. Maybe I'm already there, and don't need to go anywhere.
Relax.
Once I met a boy, he read me a story.
One Step, wipe, one breath.
Step, wipe, breath. again
listening to this
