Saturday, 25 October 2014

Could I Please Be Quiet, Please?

There is so much that I want to do. Numerous simple, yet unendingly complex, thoughts I want to unscramble. Many achievements I absolutely must achieve. Yet when I convince myself that I have the time, even if a scrap of it, to make a move, even if a minute one, on these internal requests, my mind seems to recoil and initiate a sort of exhausted spasmodic dance. That's my perception of it, at least. It's hard to tell what your mind gets up to when you're trying so hard to live outside of it. 

I say that in the most personally interpretive way possible, because as I'm typing this I realise how odd it sounds. I can't even write anymore. My words shuffle towards and away from each other like a sporadic group of wild ducks. I feel as if I've been compressed into a tight, unbelievably tense version of myself that consists of 20% me and 80% of me trying to do what I believe makes me, me. This is no exaggeration. The tension I feel makes it constantly difficult for my body to move in synchronisation with my mind. 

There are so many things that I want to make a part of me. Or things that I want to make myself a part of . I'm not sure which, but either way I seem to be sure of the characteristics I want to own and put to my name. For some reason, though, I'm have trouble solidifying these things as my personality. What's completely incomprehensible about this is all I'm trying to do is participate in my interests. You'd think that'd be easy for anyone, yet I envision myself now as a piece of tracing paper, crumpled.

I convince myself that it's the trouble of time holding me back. Starting back at school after staying dormant for two years has admittedly had its consequences, namely the dumping of stresspressuresomuchstuffihavetodoyoumustcatchupjackthisispathticlookateveryoneelse onto my betraying, able head. I tell myself that I physically don't have time to contribute to hobbies and interests and that I should focus primarily on organising the mess laid out in front me. Although, I'm starting to worry. I don't want to finally be my ideal self and have nothing to prove it. 

One thing I definitely don't want to be is self-consumed, so I'm going to stop writing now.


  1. *Mind blown by the exemplary writing skill* I can't tell you what defines you nor can I tell you that you must be defined. All I can tell you is to look the world in the eye and say, "I will beat you at your own game." The fact is so what you missed two years of school. You're in school now and will catch up. Maybe your personality is not about solidifying. Perhaps, it is about liquefying.

    Amelia @ YA Bookologists (

  2. Never give up!! You might think what you are doing now is what you "think" makes you you. However never forget, what you are doing might just really be you, not what you "think" you are. Your English skills is definitely way way stronger than mine. :) You are a good writer and to give up now because you feel stress is a waste of your great talent. Continue to write and inspire, and follow Amelia'S advice!! (Expert advice :D) (I also have a huge mess in front of me now: exams XI, but I personally believe that if we start now, it's never too late!! You will reap a great harvest soon!!) :D Hope to hear from you soon!!

    Brandon {Aspiring Blogger} (