Still 12 and oh so confused

I'm not old enough to be a 20 something! It's all a traumatising mistake, I was in the wrong line somewhere, lost in my own little fuzzy world and the title of 'adult' was bestowed upon me while I daydreamed about all the wonderful things I would be when I grow up. Still dreaming, still a little girl wondering what all these strange things such as tax returns and lab reports are doing in my little pig-tailed life.

There is some secret which all adults know and haven't told me! There is no way I can be considered a responsible adult, if only they knew what actually goes on in my mind, my constant struggle with self discipline. I need more time to get ready to face the world! The last time I checked, I was about 12... thats too old to cry with frustration which is what I really want to do right now. But big girls don't cry.

I need a cuddle.

Hope they don't take away my drivers licence when They realise.

Struggle Town

So,

Sat down to write this essay which is overdue by more days than I want to count, I realised some useful facts.

(a) Facebook stalker skills can, to a certain extent be used for proper research. No, really its not just justification, its that honing in on a target thing.

(b) There is always some marvelous chappie who, several decades previously, spent time amalgamating research into a single wonderful journal article that enables you to write 3,000 words on a topic and sound like you've read many dozen articles.

God bless his soul.

May he rest in peace.

And have large amounts of good karma.

'Heartless'

I'm not the crying sort, find it rather unhelpful and pointless in most situations. This book had tears streaming down till 3am. Simple, straightforward language expressing emotions raw like skin scraping against rough concrete. The certainty based on rationality with which I approach life in general was given a severe shaking, casually churned over a few times and tossed back onto the floor. Heart wrenching helplessness. How is it that 'real' life never makes me feel like this?

A fleeting half second of doubt. Should I have walked away from him? Perhaps it was good, better than I realised and the fault was with me, and my inability to be still. But sanity reigned. Even amongst emotional chaos and racing thoughts my gut reassures me I am where I want to be. Where I should be. And so is he. Moving more swiftly than expected towards a type of happiness and contentment we could never get from each other. So much chemistry dissolving, dissolved into nothingness. Or perhaps transformed into another form of energy, more stable, softer, less demanding.

After several years of long distance his voice is the most familiar, most Him to me. Deep and warm and comforting, even now when he isn't mine anymore. I used to lose focus on the words and just let the feelings wash over me, snuggle into the security offered. A lot has changed, there are things we cannot say anymore, there are things we cannot say just yet. Ten minutes of small talk can still calm me down. We are where we should be.

Where do you go to hide?

I'm not unhappy very often. About a year ago that statement would have been quite different, sadness was often overwhelming for about a year. Looking back, I'd say it was entirely about coping skills. This time last year I'd stay in bed for a week, today I wore a pretty dress and pigtails and after an hour of meeting happy people and laughing with them, the world is my personal, pearl filled little oyster :) 8 hours of studying later life is so much more doable! 

It scares me sometimes because its almost entirely the people who make my life so happy. Not  only close friends but also acquaintances who share titbits about their lives in lively snatches of conversation, random shopkeepers who will give me rubber bands for free because they want to share in my urge to wear pigtails, total strangers who make jokes when the buses are half an hour late because everyone is equally annoyed and really, you might as well laugh. It's an odd sense of community in big city. Is that an Aussie thing? Because my experience of the States[LA and San Francisco] was that it was comparatively quite cold and alienating. SF not as much, but nowhere near as warm and welcoming as Melbourne.

This weekend was horrible. I was completely stressed out and felt like everything was out of my control. But, for once, instead of panicking, well, instead of only panicking, I sat down at 3am and wrote a looong detailed e mail to S, love of my life, keeper of my soul, which had, in a point system everything that was bothering me and why. It was such a catharsis. While writing I could hear her voice in my head, comforting, like a proper red rice and curry meal. By then end of it I was more than ready to attack all the situations, which I did. She laughed her ass off at how I answered all my own questions and anxieties but using all the things she would have and in a strange way did, say.  

So thats where I run to. To S, to people, to patches of grass in the sun and pigtails. Sometimes I forget that overcoming panic actually is about strategy. And warmth.

Let's go dance under the streetlights

"Some people, its a pity,

They go all their lives and never know,

How to love or let love go"

- Rob Thomas, Streetcorner Symphony

That knowing when to let go stuff, it gets so complicated. 

When is something broken enough to leave before it is so completely shattered that it leaves little shards of itself embeded in you forever? 

Life can be so sweet, on the sunny side of the street

So during one of my Psyc labs this week, we had to fill out yet another tedious questionnaire about the meaning of life. Anyway, while trying to choose a number to represent how I felt about my search for meaning, it dawned on me that I'm no longer particularly fussed about having a purpose/ some driving force/ greater meaning to my life. I used to be quite horribly tormented by it, i.e. it would delay my sleep by sometimes an hour *gasp* - I jest, you know what I mean.

Doing horrible commerce subjects and walking out of classes with a far deeper understanding of Pink Floyd's brick in the wall analogy than I would wish on even people I dislike, there was a constant feeling of unease. This is back when everything was mapped out in with a large amount of certainty: internship -> part time job -> grad job -> career. All I had to do was plod along accordingly, which I was doing with a restlessness under the skin, between organs somewhere deeper than scratch-able depth.

Now, I haven't a clue where my life is headed, got a weeiiirrd combination of degrees that may or may not work out and may or may not be able to get me hired at the end, and I've never felt more secure about life in general and self in particular.

I haven't really found Purpose in my life, but I'm finding the present too enjoyably satisfying to be looking for it as such. It'll turn up one day when I least expect it and surprise me. Or maybe not turn up at all and that might actually be okay!

Neglect

Poor blog.

*pat pat*

It really is a bit like having a child and then ignoring it, however ridiculous it might be to allow a little particle of cyber space to make one feel guilty.

Not so organised chaos

Latest reason to clean room:

Keys got lost possibly on the floor somewhere, need to see floor to find aforementioned keys.

Culling

Walked into my room today and between sneezes realised how long overdue it is for a throw everything out day.. Groan. I am a minimalist, honestly, just easily distracted especially by brightly coloured things. Its just amazing the amount, shapes and sizes of completely unnecessary things that manage to accumulate over just a few months. Especially when exams require retail therapy. So yes, three garbage bags later, things are looking up. The challenge is to keep it that way. At the end of the day, all I really need to be happy are books, stationery, a few gadgets, and maybe two pairs of beautiful shoes. A few pretty clothes. It's tough being a girl. 

Where the heart is.

"It don't matter to me
'Cos all I wanted to be
Is a million miles from here
Somewhere more familiar

Oh my god I can't believe it
I've never been this far away from home"

Catchy, non-whiny song. Positively boppy to be honest, always liked it, even now when its taken on an entirely new meaning. Post exam blues settled in after the initial euphoria of being free. People are heading back to where they belong for the summer. Normally home-sickness is a foreign concept, but nearly one and a half years since experiencing that uniquely Sri Lankan cocktail of humidity, sweat, dust, petrol fumes and don't even want to know what else forming a protective shield over my skin, I admit it. There is a painful longing stubbornly refusing to go away.

All depends on what 'home' is, really. For me it is where my friends are. That unbeatable feeling of being able to let it all go - no need to smile if you don't feel like it, no need to be entertaining, or look good or say the right things. To have company without needing to say anything. Hugs. Belonging where I am just because I am me. People for whom love is unconditional, forgiving and log fire warm.   

Tonight, at this specific moment in time, I am emotionally further away from Home than I have ever been in my admittedly short life. I'll get over it, at some point in the next hour quit wallowing and get a life, but right now my mind is overwhelmed by the wish that the next month or so will go by quickly so that I can Just. Go. Home. Please.