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a powder keg in a prison cell

6 Mar

1. I’ve been checking in daily, but I feel it’s been a while since we’ve all sat down for a real heart-to-heart. Since the format of the Friday Five allows me to jump from thought to thought with little to no transition (as if it even seems I care about transitions anyway), this Tuesday night I have (or will have) five things to say. The first of which is this: I’m distracted. I’m drowning out the noise of the TV with loud, slow music. The piano sounds invite me to feel a dull sort of pain in my chest where my heart should be, and because I’m still thinking about the latest episode of Switched At Birth which ended just a few minutes ago and The Fault In Our Stars, the book I finished reading earlier today, I feel it, and I like it, and I’m grateful this aching is because of fiction.

2. What do you say when you’re doing a thing that you don’t want to talk about until there are positive results? Because that’s what I’m doing. I might be saving my money for a fancy Italian sports car, white with shiny black rims and tint as dark as Mom’s pleather couch set. Or I could be training for a half-marathon (because a complete marathon, twenty-six-point-five miles, is serious business and not at all believable), and I don’t want to fail while you all know I tried to not. I might seriously be considering marrying the boy sitting to my right, the one typing important words and numbers into a very businessy spreadsheet, knowing that sharing this kind of personal information to the readers of my blog could very well JINX all that we have. Or I may just be working on a short story for a contest created by two YouTube personalities I respect and admire wholly, and I don’t want to embarrass myself by writing something of which I can’t even be proud and be disappointed when it’s not good enough to be a finalist. Oh wait. I did that!

3. I’m actually over that. I mean, I’ve moved on, but I’m still not sure how thrilled I’ll be when the book is finally published and available for purchase. I’d like to come to a point where I excitedly anticipate the release of this collection of stories, at least. And if I get there, I can work toward to being happy, or whatever, enough to pull out my debit card within the week of its release. Then, I’ll know that I’m not bitter about something I know I don’t have the right to be bitter about. I just want to be a happy, kind,  supportive person who allows herself to appreciate beauty even when it happens despite her as it most always does.

4. I’m drawing a design for a kids’ t-shirt as a favor to my aunty in Alaska. She said she’d pay me, and that’s cool, but I mostly enjoy the thought of someone enlisting my help in a creative project she thinks I’m suited for. Even if I’m not, it’s fun to sit at the kitchen table in the middle of the day, listening to the rain rap hard against the roof and the windows and the glass door out back, sipping on a mug of scalding tea with a thick drawing pad, four different pens, a pencil, and a big white eraser, pretending. I almost feel hungry imagining myself as a happy artist-type.

5. When I think about the type of music that made me, the music I sort of gravitate toward or the sounds that remind me most of myself, I think of Punk. You know, that rocky kind of garage band music. I don’t know. I wonder if it’s because my high school playlists contained a significant amount of tracks by New Found Glory, The All-American Rejects, The Ataris, Mest, or Simple Plan, and high school was a Significant part of my life as a whole. Or if it’s just me. My thoughts get muddled here, because even I can’t say that High School Me isn’t Me, now, or most of me as I understand myself to be. And when I’m older, will I be made of more Swedish Hip-Hop or Electronic Dance Music to say that I’m those instead of Punk Rock? Or will I always say I’m Punk Rock because I’ve said it now, and I’ve committed the same way I’ve committed to Always Loving The Disney Channel even though last year, age twenty-three, I’d realized that I’m not interested in those hyper skinny-legged dancey girls or the cast of So Random or anyone really, especially now that Hannah Montana is over. I just can’t say.

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One Response to “a powder keg in a prison cell”

  1. Wendy March 7, 2012 at 6:18 am #

    Alternative music really takes me back to high school lol

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