I’m just going to list out a bunch of moments and thoughts and tell you how they make me feel, at this current time.
Today, I came home and had to park across the street because a huge shipping truck was in my driveway. As I walked up with my extremely heavy backpack and my cap and gown grasped in my hands, two men wheeled away my old refrigerator, bringing a new one (along with a stove and microwave) in its place. I walked in the house and the blinds were drawn up, the entrance rug moved away, and I felt so wonderfully out of place.
Every year around the same time at the end of the year, I get this feeling that I am incredibly, unbelievably, exceedingly, implausibly small. Not height wise, because we all know (or maybe the internet doesn’t know) that I’m a tiny girl, but in reality, my state of being. This feeling always comes after banquets and award nights and other moments when people are pulled into the spotlight to be recognized. While I’m happy for everyone that gets noticed and appreciated, I a) personally can’t stand the attention and b) always feel like I could have done more in the time span that I was given. I know it’s a temporary feeling and that it will go away once I write or edit or do something that makes me feel accomplished, but while it’s here, it’s overwhelmingly terrible.
My dad knows something is up. I just walked past him and he asked me what’s up. I said nothing. He asked if I was sure. I nodded. He nodded back. He asked why I didn’t visit the store today. I said that I didn’t know he wanted me there. He said that he always wants me to visit. I showed him my cap and gown. He said he was very proud. We talked about LA and movies and he might be more afraid than I am, which is saying something.
I switched backpacks with Rozzi today and it felt great. His backpack barely weighed anything. I felt like I could fly away with it, like there was nothing on my back. Rozzi said he felt like he was carrying the world on his shoulders with my backpack. I dreaded when I had to put it back on. I guess it’s really heavy, the world, I mean.
Elyse took me to her favorite place in Riverside today. It’s just like a place I wrote about in my “attempt” at a novel in 9th grade. The character that loved said place reminds me a lot of Elyse. Both very strong willed, both in love with the city lights, both willing to do the right thing. It’s funny, I kind of wrote about someone that I didn’t know I was actually going to meet one day. The place we went to was above the city, or so it felt. The town spread around us and I thought I could drown in all of it.
Sometimes, I’m really happy with who I am. But other times, I get in these moods where I endlessly compare myself to other people. On the other hand, Elyse told me that I’ve impacted lives, but I disagree. I don’t feel like a life changer, or an aspect of one. But I can move past all of that, if I make it over the worst thought: that I’m a second fiddle. I’ve always wanted to be someone that meant something to someone else, but it’s an almost impossible feeling to validate, so I don’t know why I let it bother me when I don’t expect it to.
I’m not comfortable telling happy stories. I feel like my blog was never a happy story place. Maybe it’s because I write in a sad story format more than anything else. It’s so much easier to spread sadness, to make other people sad with you. Happy stories are too volatile, as if you could get in trouble for smiles and rainbows. And they never contain enough emotion because the smiles and rainbows construe them. No one has sympathy for happy people, and since everyone wants someone to care for them, they write sad stories, sad posts, sad music, to get the pity they really need. I’m afraid that I’ll grow up and make endless sad movies, regardless how happy I am in my life.
Currently, I’m one of those girls where a specific boy makes her happy and gives her butterflies and curls her toes in anticipation of seeing him. While I could tell this story and make it sad just to relate to the paragraph above (one of my specialties in any field), I’m too cautious about talking about him. Why? Because I’m afraid that, like words on paper, everything will float away the second I say aloud/on my Word document that I will post on the Internet, exactly how I feel. But dear Lord, while I might not be happy with anything else in this sliver of time, I’m beyond happy about this.
During Film Class, I sat in the tiny corner where everyone changes when Amber sat next to me. Even though I was completely exhausted from my day, I managed to talk to her and have a decent heart to heart conversation. I absolutely love talking to underclassmen. One reason is because I feel like I’m talking to myself from two, three years back. Another is because I feel like I can help them, if they need it. As much as I love taking care of people, it’s the most refreshing thing in the world when someone cares about me.
Okay, I’m done with my feelings for another year. (kidding) Time to be a Final Cut Pro and edit to my heart’s desire. And when I wake up in the morning, I know everything will be okay :)
