Sometimes I feel like I’m drifting in space. Millions and millions of miles from anywhere. Traveling a thousand miles a second away from everything I know.
Alone and surrounded by nothing.
I’ve always been drawn to space. I’ve always wanted to go there. Explore. See the universe. So vast and full, yet cold and lonely. Space is like me. A contradiction of sorts. Full of mysteries to be uncovered, as well. Even to me.
Ordered chaos and tumultuous like the core of a star or the gravity well of a black hole, is my life. Constantly having to be reborn. Constantly changing variables. Often for a perceived negative. Rarely positively. I’m a negative thinker. It is after all difficult to think positively when the universe seems to focus on causing the worst in any given situation. Though it’s not always true.
I miss the good things so often. Because I don’t expect them, don’t trust them, don’t see them. Sometimes I can look back and see them, the things I’ve missed but it’s too late.
Infact, for how punctual I’ve always been and how well I accomplish most expectations placed on me, it seems I’m always just too late. Just behind.
And like a shooting star I fall back to Earth, burning up and being recreated again. Rising like a proverbial phoenix. I’ve done this so many times.
It’s hard to understand that someone who is so private and closed can have such a chaotic life. But between my brains constant working and the worlds constant movement, it’s only logical.
We all have moments. But some people are better coping than others. Life keeps moving, short and unpredictable. Incomparable to ‘who has it worse’ for everyone has their own tolerances, their own views on what is bad. Our own ideals placed upon us by the culture, society, and surrounding individuals that we assimilate and imitate. We are social models based on an experience curve over time. We are molds, unfairly placed upon us by everything we revere.
It feels so difficult to communicate across the void, and in a way, because I’m impulsive and act while I think instead of after, it is my own doing. Or undoing. Feeling disconnected and far away from the point you’re trying to reach is draining, physically and emotionally. There is no tether to pull yourself back on. No jetpacks or shortcuts. No jump drive or warp drive. The line is sometimes just dead. It doesn’t matter to whom or what you want to communicate to. In my case, it’s many things. All at once.
I’m poor at multitasking. I’m good at doing one thing on instinct while thinking about millions of things. But that’s two things at a time. I can’t do millions of things at a time while thinking about one thing. It doesn’t work.
I don’t do anything slow, and beyond that, I don’t do anything easy.
Difficulty may be perception based but difficulty is a trial of character. The harder perceived things overcome, the more self-satisfaction is received. It becomes easier to bear oneself when you’re pushed to near breaking over and over and find ways to respect you’re own ability to persevere.
But sometimes I wish it would slow down. Sometimes I need a break. Look at this writing and see. As ordered as it is. Fluid. I can’t sit and speak like this. Partially due to the problems you know I have but mostly because my brain moves so quickly that I have to force the information to slow down. It’s easier to type words than to speak them.
In a way I guess I seek it out, the stress in my life. In a way. But not always. I guess in some ways this one-taskedness can be seen as laziness. But besides the narrowminded I’ve never been accused of being lazy. I may do things unorthodox and not by the book, but they tend to get done quickly, efficiently, and as good as expected. I do not do things that do not require doing and instead prioritize on things that bring some stability to myself rather than meager tasks. This of course is easy to take too far.
It’s easy to miscalculate and fall behind. End up actually being slovenly and sloppy. End up actually lazy. So I give myself structure. In my own ways, for my own things.
People are all different and quirky. But some people are far more quirky than others.
I chose to understand my own humanity instead of letting society decide for me. Right or wrong, I refuse to conform my choices to an ideal I didn’t create. That doesn’t mean seeds of doubt are not there. Nor does it allow me to expect the positive.
I’m a momentary person. A reactive person. As people with anxiety generally are. Staying too long with certain thoughts is disruptive to health and stability. Sometimes situations are in-conducive to preventing a cascade failure of thoughts and sometimes breakdowns happen.
Like I think I’ve said, when my structure collapses, my machine breaks down.
When the machine breaks down, it takes alot of floating alone in space. Recollecting. Reconnecting. And trying to get a dialtone through an invisible phone line to the other side of the universe. Trying to get the engineering room to refire the engines to get back home.
Sometimes. I just want a wormhole. Sometimes I just need to be heard. But most importantly, sometimes I just need another star to warm me and prove that I’m not alone.
We’re all stars. We’re all not alone.
Keep shining would be an awfully cheesy way to end this blog :|