It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. I started this to be more true to myself and… really take a look at what I’ve been doing with my life. Not for what I remember of it, but for what I have actually been doing. Time and time again over the break I’ve been thinking about what I should write about. Parties, boys, work, success, falls, love. Anything really. But I couldn’t bring myself to actually write. Write what I feel. I think now is the time to do that.
I have no Idea where I am. I’m so lost. I thought I knew my world, I thought I knew my town, my friends and my family but I was so wrong. I’ve been hanging out with Autumn again, Angela moved out and now me and Autumn are good friends like we were before. I thought I knew her but I found out today I didn’t even know her real name. Autumn was her middle name not her first, and everyone knew it but me.
I have a new roommate now, and he seemed so sweet, sincere and real. I thought I could really trust him. Ever since Macque moved back to Buffalo I haven’t had anyone to really talk to. Autumn has her own set of problems so I don’t really bother her with mine. Ethan, my best friend since kindergarten is in a totally different world than I am and while I can tell him some things I don’t feel like I can really talk to him at times you know? Everyone here has there own problems, I’m sure everyone in the world does but I really thought I could talk to John. I really thought I could trust him. Then he lied to me, let me down for New Years, ditched me to go some where else and when he apologized he told me he was sorry but he would probably lie to me again.
Taking a step back from all this I stopped and examined myself… what the hell was I thinking? How could I trust some one who I had barely known for a full week? What have I been doing with myself… who am I. Why do I make the choices I do.
Maybe I really can control my own destiny, maybe the actions I make and the decisions I make as well really do ultimately decide my future but the things I put myself around influence it as well. I haven’t gotten any sleep tonight.
All my life I have always been a writer. Ever since I knew how to hold a pencil in my tiny little fist. I have a gift and I want to share it with the world. I want to write until the day I die but… what will I write? My parents always told me I had a problem distinguishing what is fake and what is real. Fantasy and reality always meant the same things to me but now they are starting to grow further apart and I don’t know which one to chase, which one to be.
I just got a fat promotion at The Torch, I’m the Features Editor now. It’s a paid position and I can give assignments out to reporters. I’ve never been promoted in my life before; I never thought I’d be a boss at anything, at least this soon. But it struck me: what I write for the paper is real. The books I write in my spare time, my passion; that is fake. I can’t do both… can I? Write books and write for a paper. I have one shot, one degree I need to work for. Am I going to work for a life where I can write for a magazine, make a fortune and have tons of fun, or write my novels make a fortune and have tons of fun. I know this sounds crazy, like I’m freaking out over nothing but what am I going to do with my life? What am I going to be… what do I want to be?
The only person I can really trust now is myself. I haven’t been making the wisest decisions since schools out but I’m young, I’m learning. I look back at everything I’ve done and I worry what I will do in the future. The hands on the clock never turn back, they always move forward. I need to move with it.
I’ve lost control. I’ve lost control of myself, my family, my friends… I’ve lost a lot in my life. I haven’t lost myself. I wont.
Posts
