March 23, 2003 | 11:39 AM Central Time
Coming Back

"I�d like to think that we�re defined not just by what we do, but by what we dream."

Yes, I am writing again. Sometimes in life, the world starts spinning far too quickly for us to control, and we need to take time out from the little things to get the big things in order. It's a pretty large order, when you think about it. Being young, trying to get everything put in the right place, the right category for my whole life. It's not always going to be controllable, but eventually, it all returns to some semblance of normalcy, and then the writer returns, at least for a little while. Things are still quite crazy, trying to put it all together and cover all the responsibilities and somehow live a life. So for a time, my writing may be more sporadic than I would really like. But soon enough, all will return to its rightful place.

I guess it�s only fair to say that I need a serious break. A break from what, I don�t really know. A break from this place, a break from the people around me (and even the people not around me), and a break from these words. Yes, that�s it. A serious break from these words.

I get so tired of people telling me that they don�t know how I maintain the pace that I perform at every day. Perhaps only the knowledge that I need to do more, because everything I seem to do is so meaningless, in the long term effects. I lack in so much. The financial responsibilities nearly rip me away everyday.

And now, I lack the interpersonal relationships that I thrive on. My sense of success, gone. I just need something good to happen to me right now, something that will build me up again where I began to crumble. And it doesn�t come.

Perhaps it�s time for some sort of change, an alteration in my outlook, my activities, even the character that defines me. Finding what drives me, and dismantling it, while hearing my own distant words of rationality and rage echoing in a faraway place.

It took me a day to really be able to take life as it comes again, as everything builds to a head at the worst possible moment, and I slowly begin to feel like I�m falling apart again. I just didn�t want to allow myself to write while caught in the deepest of doldrums. It comes out so jumbled, as so many of my thoughts do. Every time it all gets to be too much for me, each moment I hit that point of sensory overload, I try to make up for the bad things that tear my world apart by looking into the blue sky, counting blades of grass, hearing my feet thud on the thick Decatur pavement. But not even these things really disguise the core� that sometimes, I just don�t feel like being happy. And I can�t be. And I won�t be.

before | after

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Goodbye... and EFF YOU! - January 14, 2004
This... sucks. - November 30, 2003
High on Life... and hyper as hell. - November 28, 2003
Happy Thanksgiving, not so happy. - November 27, 2003... Thanksgiving Day
100 exciting things about me... hehe,.. not. - November 25, 2003