3/06/2007
Armed with nothing but eyeliner and hugs

I'm entering three years since I started searching for clues regarding my mere existence. But no, I haven't done it in a way Lizette probably would - I know I couldn't possibly think of it that way. People have always lived with different perspectives to the point of selling it to another.

And look at how my perspectives have changed. On the way home I slept through how I'll write this anniversary entry without sounding like a salesman. It's like my surprise realizing that school requirements have led me to think that things have faded away, but not really. No, they haven't.

At this point in my life, I'm slowly getting used to losing sleep over the most important matters - publications, photographs, concepts, sympathy - and the most mundane ones, which is everything else you can think of. I don't know if I can already synthesize all of these things into one efficient flow that takes note of everything that's been said, from lost motivations to prized reputations, but nevertheless it's as if one year made so much of a difference. Much more, two.

And within that space, it's as if I have grown - but, of course, I must have! I'm growing pimples by the minute. I'm starting to eat more, or maybe eat the same things at the same time. my mind is now willing to ingest complicated morals from films like Babel while ditching drivel like Epic Movie. Eventually I'd wonder why I keep on tackling growth as a topic; indeed it's overused by high school writers and those without an imagination. I won't fall for that.

Change, however, is one I'm willing to dig into, at least as a topic. But maybe when you stop fussing about it - a lesson I learned from Icka a long time ago - you don't notice it happening, and it becomes a positive thing. You suddenly realize you're improving rather than fussing about you doing the opposite. You suddenly feel that you're getting comfortable despite the fact that the clues are all around you. It can't be written that terribly, ever.

But the reason why I'm not worrying about it remains elusive. Sure, the obvious answer would be school - I mentioned that already, but surely that's a superficial measure to plug a gap? I could say I'm too tired to worry - indeed, I decide to worry and I realize I can't. I couldn't have possibly given up, though - I rarely give up. Then again, I rarely give up. That means I still do.

Sometimes the little gambles you decide to take just make sense all of a sudden. In our side of the world, where teachers are reminiscent of terror and students are down with nothing but camera handling and still life concepts, you can't possibly disturb anyone out of anything. Time for anybody else is quite a concept, making those without anybody beside them unused, or extremely comfortable. Or maybe it was Kor calling me "lovable" for no particular reason, until I offered her a dry pillow to sleep on - that kind of thing. You suddenly appreciate it.

I actually thought I'd always end up saying that things are hopeless. And true enough, within my second year in the search I said that countless times; it was as if the world was against me, and I had nothing to do but give up all claims on happiness, but no. Sometimes I insist I've got nothing, but now that I haven't had the chance to worry, it's as if things have actually flowered from the start. Flourished, if you'll put it in my lessons. It's confusing, but maybe adding people up makes sense now. Or elusive concepts like progressing.

I'm still searching for clues, I know. Who else would be satisfied with what we have? I'll not pretend I don't get hurt once in a while; indeed, this could all amount to euphoria before all hell breaks loose. Or maybe I'm (too) slowly easing in to what probably amounts to my recliner in this world - at least I have one. I can have my respect and eat it, too. Or maybe not - we exist with that, even I think it's a ruined concept.

Easing into the day, armed with nothing but eyeliner and hugs?

I could toss in my conversation with Sarah yesterday about candidates talking as friends - but really, now. I didn't have to, right? Exactly what this meant.

And your responses...

restlessness and discontent. a good way to start.

Blogger lizette3/11/2007     

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