Thursday, August 16, 2007

More of that lonely Tupperware feeling

I was sitting on my bed, debating whether to go out, clean the apartment, or what else to do tonight, and I kept having all these thoughts - all these things I wanted to write down. I sat down at the keyboard and now I feel paralyzed. Writer's block. So I'll just write whatever I can, even if it comes out stunted, rambly, and/or boring.

I've started some small draft posts this week. I don't want to just leave them never completed, though. I found, when I was looking for something else I'd written, an old draft post I wrote last summer that was just a list of things that happened. Some of it made me laugh, only because I remember what I wanted to write about - the one line in my blog was not funny at all though - and some of it made me think, "WHAT happened? What was I trying to refer to?"

I hate transitions. That's not true. But I find transitional periods very very uncomfortable. They are, I guess, like being on a roller coaster. Sometimes it's thrilling and fun, and sometimes it's just nauseating. Sometimes there's this very distorted sense of reality. For example, when preparing to leave something, feelings often fluctuate - from seeing the soon-to-be-left-behind-place only for its good qualities, or only for what was bad about it. So, I can go back and forth from, "Oh, I can't believe I'm leaving, this is so sad..." listing all of the things I'm going to miss, to "Omg...I HATE this. I hate ___ and ___ and __ and I can't wait to be through with it! Good riddance!"

I know it's really commonplace, but to me it's very surreal, preparing to leave a place. I wonder what it is that I miss - the routine, the familiarity, the people, ???

So, a week from tomorrow, I'll be finished with my summer internship. This is a weird feeling. Not long ago, I was feeling out of place and uncomfortable there, awkward, not sure of the structures, norms, patterns, and now that's all gone. It's weird when, in the last week of something, you discover something new, like "Oh THIS is the best gas station to go to" or "There's a Dunkin Donuts right here!?" It's weird, like, "This information will be useless to me in a couple of days." And while I know that in a couple of weeks, I'll be so used to my new situation, I won't miss the old one at all, sometimes I almost wish I couldn't forget things that easily. Like, for some time period, this pattern was your LIFE, your ROUTINE, the way you did things, and now you just switch.

But why do I even care about such little things? I am weird.

Another source of this feeling is that I have started living in my new apartment, somewhat. Tomorrow I'll go back to my old house, and I'm sure I'll go up to visit a lot, especially as beautiful autumn approaches....

Anyway, I digress. (What a surprise.) So, there's absolutely nothing wrong with my new apartment; in fact, I don't want to speak too soon, but I think I am going to love living here. But it's still very new, so there's a lot to adjust to. Every night I sleep here, while I usually wake up well-rested, I either wake up several times throughout the night, or have very strange, vivid dreams. Clearly, I'm not used to the place yet.

Even when awake, I sometimes have minor feelings of panic in the midst of a totally normal situation. I felt especially weird and awkward with the new people I'm living with, not because of THEM, simply because I would suddenly get this worried feeling, this awareness of my own eccentricity. When people are new, when you haven't yet fallen into a rhythm with them, set up boundaries and standards of acceptable behavior (propriety I suppose), it's weird. (I couldn't think of how to end that sentence.)

Anyway, we all ended up at the bar together on Tuesday and had a lot of fun, so that awkwardness is not an issue really, anymore. It convinced me that this will be a fun year.

- - -

In general, my attitude has changed. At some point this summer, I think this happened. I stopped having that same feeling of having a deadline. Like at the end of some period of time, I would no longer have the chance to do the things I wanted, the fun things, the creative things, etc.

(Though I still want to make a list of things to accomplish by 2010.)

(By the end of the summer, my to do list has dwindled to Buy textbooks and Learn to make ice cream.)

So anyway, clearly something is wrong with my writing. I do not write as I used to. I do not despair, though. I think it will come back to me. Discipline should help, even if it means posting things like this.

Something is crippling/strangling my writing. I felt so inspired, and as soon as I sat down at the keyboard, I felt like a wall sprang up in my mind. I would walk away from the keyboard, have some more ideas, sit down, and feel that wall again. Well, in time this will pass.

So anyway, I think I may have successfully shed this feeling of needing to always be doing, doing, doing - to the point where I ended up doing nothing. I just hope it doesn't go the other way, to complete laziness, to an absence of creativity. To a blur of finishing homework, going to work, and going to bars with my friends. Not that this would be such a horrible existence; I just want more. I want to write, for one thing. I want to make things, create things, learn things. Not necessarily for attention - to have some kind of audience. Not even for the finished project. I just want to create things for the act of doing it, the process of writing, making art, whatever. I want my creativity to encompass something other than what I make for dinner.

Something to write about later, because I'm running out of steam - all the thoughts I have, lately, about my constant desire, my obsession, with maximizing the good I can do in the world. I think about this so much that I end up doing nothing, that I end up neglecting the small things. I've also been thinking a lot about ways to simplify my life, things I could give up, things I can't give up and why...For example, if I own a TV to watch just one show I like, one show that somehow makes my life better (light entertainment, learning something, whatever) but it leads to me watching hours and hours of crap, is it worth it? The internet is this way for me. I waste so much time on the Internet, but I feel like the good things I've gotten from it are worth the tradeoff. But are they? I don't know. It's just so easy, for some reason, with these types of things (laptop, TV) to get sucked in, to not want to tear oneself away. They feed on everyone's human sense of curiosity.

Even books - sometimes I think I miss out on life because I've got my nose so far in a book.

Facebook is a good, specific example. I've wasted so much time on it, I've made myself feel bad looking up things I don't need to know, and yet it's a great place to post my pictures, to keep in touch with people who are far away, and to find people with whom I lost touch, people I really did want to keep in touch with.

It's really all an issue of self control, I suppose.

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