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My tumblr has been overtaken by SCA-deep-as-toenails Senior high girls, and boys I don't want reading my thoughts.
So here's where my thoughts remain secret, I suppose. Until my social world comes bombarding into these written vent sessions as well.
I have come to realize that I'm not doing anything I want to be doing.
I want to dance. I am not dancing. I want to write. I am not writing. I want to work with kids. I am not working with kids. I want to make a difference. I am not making a difference. I want to go to school. I am not going to school. I want to travel. I am not traveling. I want to create. I am not creating.
So what do I do, though? How do I make time for the things I want to do? I can hardly figure out how to do the things that are necessary to survive. I have lost touch of understanding and willingness to walk without a map and/or plan of some sort.
I'm sick of who I am and the things that I do/do not do. I want some legitimate change. I want miracles and bombs going off. I want the passion in my joints to get me moving.
But I can't help but think that this is exactly where God wants me.
Why though, God? Where the hell am I? I am squeezing this season for all it's worth, trying desperately to learn and grow from whatever this trial may be. But what is it? What am I learning? What have I to prove?
And my heart races, and my face melts. I lift my hands but I can hardly stand. I dread the next morning because I have no promises. Or do I?
And the things I look forward to, collapse beneath my sore little feet. Hope is unseen. Like literally, it's not there, really.
I am finding constant insecurities and being unable to socialize appropriately.
Oh my gosh, the heavy things on my mind.
And then my thoughts race back to the fact that I'm not the only one working hard.
So I keep my mouth shut. And when people ask if I'm okay, I am wonderful. Because who wants to deal with one more person that's having a bad day? I have the tendency to stop loving myself. I am worth more than I give myself credit for. I am aware of that. But I won't step up and take what I think I deserve. Unless it is of the negatives.
Where is my family.
I hear giggling in the other room. I am still in my work clothes.
I'm waiting for my freaking phone to vibrate. Tell me Friday isn't blown. (But it is, isn't it?)
A shower is necessary but not necessarily wanted. My iPod is MIA, as usual, and music is the only thing that I enjoy about a shower.
I haven't had a legitimate conversation with my dad in months. That's fine, I guess. I need his approval. Though it's something not easily asked for. It's something given (or not given) without a request.
I am beginning to realize that the reason for my writing decrease, is because I'm afraid of what people will think if they know what they do. If I spill all my thoughts out without holding back, what will people think of me? It's not so much that I'm afraid to be judged, because lets face it, I will always be judged. It's more or less that I don't want the text messages asking if I'm okay. I'm not looking for a shoulder to cry on or someone to hold my hand. And then there's the flip side. I don't want people telling me I'm a cry baby or thinking that all I do is whine.
Encouragement is all I'd ever want from someone. I'm not trying to milk anything or get anything from anyone.
If I could go anywhere right now, it would be the most dangerous part of the world.
If I could see anyone right now, it would be Dominic Miller.
If I could say anything right now, it would be: freedom, passion, power, love, & romance.
If I could have anything right now, it would be peace, understanding, and a deeper connection with the Holy Spirit.
If I could change anything right now, it would be everything about my life.
If I could grasp anything right now, it would be Gods plan for my life.
If I could be anyone right now, it would definitely be me.
Maybe that's too many if's. And maybe they're all ridiculous and un-doable.
But there it is.
I thought this huge typing spree would make me feel better.
But it has not, not at all.
Where has my outlet gone?
Expression has lost it's face to me.