Tired but awake anyway. The years pass quicker and I rarely know what day it is.
Feedback says I’m working too hard and worrying too much; I feel like I’m treading water. Tiring activity, especially in a society that requires clothing. Feedback says I need to be alone; I probably do. Very well.
Coming to a more realistic view of myself, others and life. Was bound to happen eventually. I’m not going to live in an apartment with my three closest and oldest friends who make me laugh when I return home from my well paid and satisfying nine to five. I won’t be engaged at 23 and pregnant at 25. My first won’t be my only. I may never own my own house, or have a shiny car. People are fallible and selfish, and I can’t change that, or them.
Some things I can do. Like yoga everyday, and learning piano. Resuming dance class. Watching stupid movies. Walking on the beach, running in the rain. Living in many and various places; having lots of lovers with a story to tell.
My eyes blur, the days blend together. I feel muted. And when I’m not, I wish I was. I keep coming back to this realisation, that I’m never gonna blend in, and when I do, I don’t like it.