A am almost thirty years old today. I'm actually turning twenty seven and the thought leaves a hole in my chest that feels like it should have been filled by now but actually gets a little bigger with every year. Its almost like I never expected to actually get old. And now that I am I feel like life is useless in so many ways. Every day that goes by, every month, year, seems to teach me the truth that, life is really nothing special. It is the same for everyone and it will always be the same for me.


I realize that there are good times. There were moments. There will be moments again. But for those of us with any kind of imagination, always at the fore-front of ones mind are all the good times that never were. That never will be. All the dreams that can't be achieved because well, peoples lives are normal and boring, and the opportunity has long since passed. In real life, things don't actually happen to people.

"TV taught me how to feel. Now real life has no appeal." - Marina and the Diamonds

In the book "The Four Loves" C. S. Lewis talks about how people might assume that, because he speaks so intelligently of religion, he must be a pretty righteous man. He says that this is a myth.

"Those like myself whose imagination far exceeds their obedience are subject to a just penalty; we easily imagine conditions far higher than anything we have really reached."

Tonight I feel this way about my first twenty-seven years of life. The good times, the accomplishments, are swallowed whole by the monster of imagining what might have been. What was not to be. And there is a true sense of loss that comes with those thoughts. It seems that the thing to do would be to say, forget the past, it cannot be changed. Move forward and look to the promise that is to come. However, with the knowledge that nothing will ever be as good as you can imagine, then what's the point of moving on at all? It seems that the future, with all its promise is really no more then a promise of disappointment, because the truth is that life is just normal. Regaurdless of love, fame, money, or time I will never be anything but little old me. Perfectly normal, faulty, often disappointing and painfully ordinary me. How horrible it is to learn we are simply simple.

On Turning Ten


The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I'm coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed.

Billy Collins

  I love my Mother. A lot actually. In fact, if I didn't then there wouldn't be any kind of a problem because we don't get angry at the people we don't care about. It's only the ones we wish we were getting along with that make us upset when we don't.

So I am hyper sensitive right now. I'll admit it. For the first time in my life I have an opinion that my parents disagree with and for the first time I am aware that they are disappointed in me. This makes me very insecure and I feel guilty all the time for disappointing them and making them sad. However, the idea of living the kind of life they want me to, well, that makes me suicidal. I don't want to go to church and find a nice young woman and become an English teacher and raise a family.

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 I'm sorry Mom, I don't. So stop making me feel like I am scum because I don't see it that way.
I want to be able to live however I want without having to injure the people I love, and right now it is them who are stopping me from being happy... or at least the potential of being happy. Because, if it wasn't for them, things could be very simple. It wouldn't matter where I lived, who I dated, what mistakes I made and what happiness I found. I think I am very angry at them for that.

And because I am already so angry, tired, and frustrated, I am very easy to set off. The smallest thing can really offend me because there is all of that build up behind it. So I fly off the handle really easily. It doesn't help of course that I have two incredibly sure of themselves conservative parents who never even try to see the world for what it actually might be but only for how it can support their already pre-conceived notions of hate and intolerance. And they are both so quick and ready to stuff it down my throat because, I HAVE to agree with them. They try and convince with the assurance that only a person who knows they are right could wield. And I really hate people that think they know they are right. They are impossible to talk to.

So why am I pissy? I think I feel like my parents have let me down. Like I have outgrown them and I feel like they mislead me. Like, I trusted them for years and they let me down. They taught me things that weren't true and told me they knew things that nobody really knows. And I don't want to be like them. I think that is the worst. I mean, I can think of ways that I do want to be like them. Things I do respect about them. But it is overshadowed right now by the things that scare me and disappoint me and hurt me.

So many of the attributes my parents have are things that I hate in people right now. And I just don't know how to deal with that. In the end I just want to be dead, but that can't be my answer anymore. I've spent the past three years just wishing I was dead, and for a large part of that time I might as well have been. I need to take some action. I need to find myself and what makes me happy. what gives me meaning. It would just be so much easier if my parents understood that. But they never will.