Ah, summer. Don't you remember the days when summer meant a carefree release? After months you could finally relax. If only that was true.
Now, by default I'm just a tad neurotic, that just me. But this summer is not helping things. Although it started well, chances are the only thing I'll recall fondly will be Cedar Point, but time will tell. Damn, my thoughts are so scattered that even pulling off a blog post is taxing me!
Feeling lost - but why? Doesn't matter. Just keep smiling damn it! Looking happy matters more than being happy. Smile till it hurts... till it makes you sick... till no one can read you... till you no longer understand happiness... till emotion is pointless... till it becomes a matter of survival.
The raid was unsettling. Thats the best way I can put it. There was no point to it. Unless the Freudian slip of "if we ever piss you off enough to move out..." holds the the real meaning of the action. There is nothing in my life I haven't learned from. I take a piece from everything I experience, see, and observe. This event only forces a fact I have been trying to ignore: Time to move on.
My radical inner voice wants to be drastic - screw them: disappear tomorrow! What ties me here? Its no longer trust. And, as sad as it may sound, the strongest bonds seem more like guilt than love. The "what if" of leaving. Not so much the effect on me, but of those around me.
As always my core duality, my realistic and impulsive sides have fought. Reality has the conditional win. While a sudden exit would be both damning and dramatic - aspects of both make me secretly smile - the logistics just aren't there.
I'm a planner - I have to have some control of what seems like completely rash action. The finances and timing have to be right. Have a plan, and a back up. It was served me will in the past. I will only run if I have a destination. Sudden but planed. There then gone.
But thats only part of the feeling. Lost due to my own isolation. The isolation limits options. Limited, so oddly fits my life.
One friend moves away to the Midwest. Down to two. Another heads away for a few weeks, and the other doesn't return calls. Suddenly I'm alone. It just me and my thoughts again. I scares me, to be honest. And yet its not foreign to me. Solitary has almost become a friend in and of its self. When all is gone, its still there. Maybe I have just romanticized the idea. But it recalls my youth, when thats all I had, and I survived long periods of that, all the while, still smiling.
Could I do it again? If forced I think I could, I have limited options, I have to go with what is available. (Although I have had a serious offer to move to Philly - but thats almost too complicated to consider) It would still not be by choice. I bitch an moan, but there is still part of me that is a fighter, no matter how comfortable giving up seems.
I'm lost, but I have set a date - without a destination. Hopefully the span of time will fill in the gaps as I do what is needed to reach that date. A personal event horizon - a time to move on - a cut off point - the future - if I make it.
In the equation of life, I feel as if I hang there, like an unnecessary remainder. Would be easier for all if it just wasn't there, things divided out ... everything even. The loose change no one bothers with. The last penny for ignored thoughts.
If only I could smile