I can’t remember the last time I didn’t feel completely alone.

I have given up on making friends, being happy, finding a career. No one calls me or texts or facebooks or tries to make conversation when they are not getting paid to be a close vicinity to me.

A few weeks ago I explained by lack of feelings/desires to someone and they told me I might as well just kill myself. Those kinds of things stick with you when you have a headache late at night because you haven’t eaten half of what you were supposed to, because maybe if you are skinner someone will take any interest in you. Or when it’s past midnight because maybe then someone will be desperate enough to talk to you. Or when you finally cry and you still don’t feel anything at all.

Why don’t I just kill myself? Who the fuck says that.

I pretty much hate everyone and everything I know. And it isn’t cute anymore. It isn’t fun being an elitest it isn’t ironic or clever or anything except for miserable.

All I want to do is feel anything, besides hate or saddness. My life is so melodramatic. I wish I were kidding. I can not make it alone. I have nothing to life or die for. I am in living limbo. A zombie of my own mental making.

Yet I have no strength left for the fight. I do not have the energy to find that one great album that will help me through the hard times, to discover the nice boy at the record shop, to call family members who at least have to pretend to care for 10 minutes.

And no I do not have it in me to pull the plug all of the way. I could not stomach doing that to my grandma or the few children who I do no. But that is really about all that is keeping my guts calm.

Reasons why my life sucks:

+College shit: Fucking local women’s college.

-I have no major,  and plenty of student loans.

-I am stuck at the college I’m at, and it still kinda sucks,  espeically for something so expensive,   and better yet for somewhere which so many of my “young adult” years will be spent at.

+Job shit: My retail dreams have come true, I work at the ultimate hipster location. 

-They play about 5 songs over and over.

-The clothing loses appeal because I see it all of the time.

-I’m at the “top” and I’m still not happy. Awesome.

+Love shit: I realize I do not know anything about love or labels or lust.

-Straight, gay, bi-sexual. No idea.

-The only inclination to any romantic feelings I posses are for an ex, who is more awkward than me,  thus more confusion. Sweet.

+Friend shit: I have 3 friends.

-One of them has grandkids.

-I have lost the ability to make any more.

+Social shit: N/A

-I forget how to talk to people.

-Plus I forget what free time feels like.

+Body shit: Getting older sucks.

-I have no time to go to the gym/workout.

-My face looks like a model for a 15 year old ginger boy known as “pizza face” on a random cartoon.

+Other shit: Where I want to be verus where I am?
<—Lots of space and time and years and courage and confidence and organization and love and acceptance and forgiveness and knowledge—>

-I want to travel, meet cool people, take pictures, feel pretty.

-I have no skills whatsoever, no music, juggling, jewelry making, hair cutting, picture taking, sweater knitting, anythinganythinganything at all.

I cannot figure out how to let go and learn. How to improve any of these conditions.

I want to have a studio with power tools, paints, stains, various chemicals, and space. I want to use materials found in dumpsters, thrift shops, and other secondhand sources. Make other things out of these objects. Then sell them online or to venders. Things like ashtrays, bookends, cabinets, shelves, etc.

I know no one makes it in the performing arts world, or really even the art world, without massive amounts of confidence. Whether it’s a subtle stable look in their eyes or a bold stance. Confidence is absolutely key. That being said, I do not believe someone who is about to be 19 who hasn’t danced in years really has any business thinking about a career as a performer.

Sure it sounds great, having that kind of lifestyle. When it comes down to it though, there are hundreds of other girls who are smarter, thinner, more flexible, better trained, and more determined than I am. I know I will have regrets and wonder ‘what-if’ when I’m older if I don’t give this whole thing one more shot. In order for the this attempt to happen, changes will need to be made. Diet, exercise, whole lifestyle adjustments. However, what if I spend a whole summer eating lettuce, drinking water, stretching my heart out, and watching dance videos like no one’s business and I still don’t make it. I know my ability to perform is under par, along with my ability to take in choreography, and even my musicality.

I have to wonder if I really want to be a dancer or I just want to set myself up for failure. However, the bottum line is: I need to major in something during college. Nothing more can be known right now, I will just have to see what my body is capable of and how much I can change my cognitive abilities to become the best dancer I can be. But fuck, is it frightening.

Why is the only fucking thing I think I want to do one of the only things I can’t do?

First of all, a pocket notebook sounds like a wonderful idea. There is no way this blog post could be as productive and meaningful as it would have been 3 hours ago. A pocket notebook could serve a thought page holder.

Now for the less-amazing post:

Going to the theatre is always a hot and cold experience. By definition theatre evokes emotions, usually with an upbeat style, with an attempt at sparking a creative inspiration to give us all a new lease on life. This fraction obviously representing the former hot experience. The other side of the coin however is nothing other than green eyed jealously for the performers. Who wouldn’t want that life: being on stage, traveling about/living in a great city, being part of an amazing team of people that consomes most of your life. Turns out not everyone wants this life. However, more people want this life than there are positions possible. On one hand this realization is pleasant because it means life as a performer is possible, of course there is a dark side being that most people who go into the field do not make it very far.

My dreams of performing on board way or internally touring are over. At least now I can admit there were those dreams did exist. As every minute I age it takes off a month of my possible career as a performer. I might as well give it one last shot. One thing I have been trying to do right the last few years is not to leave any stone unturned. Lately it has become exceeding difficult to put my finger on anything solid for more than five minutes. Why not give dance one last valent effort for a comeback?

Another part of my theatre experience has always been slightly therapeutic, in the sense sometimes during the middle of each act I loose track of the story and think of my own life. How it mirrors characters in the show, or just what’s going on with me in general. I don’t participate in this type of behavior a lot, I keep busy not directly for the reason of avoiding thinking in a way such as this, but it definitely isn’t bad side effect.

This theatre invoked new theory consists of simplicity. The correct answer is usually the easiest route. I thought about what consistently consumes my thoughts and actions. 1 Even when I’m at the educational amazing interactive positive science museum I work at, the big open space just make me want to arabesque across the floor. 2 If I talk to anyone long enough about life; particularly relationships, happy memories, or love in general it is inevitable that I will mention the same “perfect” someone. It is funny that perfect was always the word to describe him yet I never really stopped to take it literally.

These two subjects may seem a little contrived given the direction of my life right now plus the musical setting. However, these are the only two things I literally dream about on a consistent basis. Point being, they are two things that are on my mind more than any one other thing. Instead of exhausting myself searching and searching for answers, maybe I should just listen to my own thoughts and feelings I already have.

Lots of things could be true, there are countless plausible outcomes for almost all situations. Instead of trying to predict solutions and problems and the future basically. I would really like to just live. I have to start somewhere. I feel like the best possible thing I could do for myself right now, is to sit back, relax, and breath. And then go and do. Not plan and predict. It is just difficult to put these gross generalizations into real actions when society pressures my age group to stay in school, transfer to a new one if you must. But make sure you do your own research on where and what you’ll be doing there. Because there are no guaranties anymore. You are responsible for your own life, or at least that’s how it seems.

*This post needs clarity and editing. However, I realize I have 9 days left in this semester and a shitload of work to do. If I make it out to explore any of these new future strategies and goals, first this semester has to be finished.

Do not stay at Disney for forever, remember children-friendly things will get old if dealt with every single day.

“Look at you. You’re young. And you’re scared. Why are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed. Stop swallowing your words. Stop caring what other people think. Wear what you want. Say what you want. Listen to the music you want to listen to. Play it loud as fuck and dance to it. Go out for a drive at midnight and forget that you have school the next day. Stop waiting for Friday. Live now. Do it now. Take risks. Tell secrets. This life is yours. When are you going to realize that you can do whatever you want?”

Have you ever gotten above a hundred percent on a test? 

Have your teachers ever addressed the class with skepticism and worry about their students not being able to understand the material, but added an afterthought that they weren’t talking about all of their students. And you know they aren’t talking to you, not because of their smirk directly at you and a few others, but because you already know the material. This is what I miss about high school.

That feeling can serve as fuel. Education leads to independence. Children have the most fun because they are learning new things at an exponential rate.

What does it mean to be gifted? Not just a lot of chess playing. And not gifted for the sake of the label. Perhaps it has something to do with this feeling of confidence in academic ability. The rush of learning new material, of taking a test and not only knowing the answers but having an idea why those questions were asked and in that particular manner because it is the best form to demonstrate the concepts. Or maybe it has something to do with being able to talk to teachers about demonstrations of learning, along with course material itself.

One of the best classroom experiences I’ve ever had was an AP history course. I had no interest in the actual content of the course. However the context and classroom environment as a whole, forced students to actually learn the material. Evidence of learning was shown through the only component of the course besides tests: round table discussions. There was no lecture. Each student had to read new course material every night, the textbook provided all information. The teacher’s role was simply to clarify and provide an idea of which facts and figures were the most important. That course perhaps more important than american history, taught me how to take notes and study for tests.

Being that the course was “AP” I assumed college classes would follow-suit. Except the college classes, which I’ve experienced so far, best resemble freshmen non-honor classes. Courses which I could still get a decent grade in, without actually having to put in anything resembling work.

Big colleges usually have a lot of core requirements and a lot of official “real world” things which must be completed before graduation. For example a study aboard requirement, an internship, or submitting papers to academic conferences. They can be accredited while still having classes with a few hundred students because of their rigorous curriculum. Whereas small colleges might make their curriculum more lax because they assume students are getting a better education because of class sizes being so small that it would be noticeable if they were not learning. However, there can be a problem with assuming small colleges are synonyms with students adequately comprehending material. I feel as though I could not read most of the material covered on an exam and still pass with a decent grade.

So I go on doing the bare minimum of school work required to maintain an average gpa, in order to get a degree, in order to get a job.

There’s something missing though. It’s not my lack of friends that bothers me the most about my small college. Or even the nonexistent social scene. But actual learning. Classes everywhere are what you make of them. Of course I could study more and learn the material on my own. But I realize that when given the option I will not do so.

However, I have the ability to consciously chose to put myself in a situation resembling an AP class. There are colleges out there who believe in round table discussions and everything that goes along with the stereotype. I miss the rush which only comes from having the confidence in fully understanding the material, while at the same time being forced by the class structure to comprehend the content or fail.

I believe there is a certain way of behaving which comes from taking part in a class structure such as this. It may be slightly elitest, but mostly it’s respectful. Respect for the course material, the teacher’s effort in test making, the teacher’s facilitation skills, your classmates whom have obviously also provided time, effort, and wits.

(Moremoremore to come on this topic after a mental break/sleep!)

Views of college during high school went a little something like: this magical place which in four years manages to teach you how to make it in the ‘real world’ while showing you which path is best for you, who to take it with, and which lasting memories to never forget.

College views from 3/4ths of the first year looks a little something like: a let down. Everyday seems to be a different shade of gray. Trying to create colors and experiences with the ‘theatre’ crowd better known as sci-fi freaks, or the hip-hop athlete girls, or the hockey local celebrity lesbian stars, or even douche bag pitt guys. When in the morning, after the hope of finding a rainbow everything is still black and white.

It’s like painting on a non-stick surface.

Some people peak in high school, and they may not realize this at the time but their parents probably do and their teachers. Adults can point their neon shine out from afar. As for the others, the dark and twisty teenagers, most of them wake up every early morning and mentally add another tally to the list of days they made it through. And if they stuck with the program long enough to be handed a diploma, then the feeling of passing time aimlessly, without enjoyment and purpose was supposed to disappear. The students who managed to fill out an application to university were promised a different kind of educational experience. One with meaning, fun, bestfriendsforlife, and job placement directly following.

What happens when college isn’t a big fucking ray of sunshine? 

The same feelings of having no interests or direction persist with more strength and vigor than any career-of-the-week. Only now it’s in real time. Resume pinpoints remain blank, photo-books unfilled, and pockets empty. Options whose lack-thereof used to be justified by being a kid still stuck in high school. Maybe its a lesson in responsibility, at the end of the day everyone is responsible for their own happiness. Although college is supposed to be the place where the correct path becomes clear to you. All you have to do is find a way to follow. 

But what if there is no yellow brick road?

Does it mean that another natural disaster is your catalyst, not a tornado. Could a geographical location really create the right spark to set your slippers aglow? It seems like something uncomfortable, shameful, and resembling giving up to think that moving away could be a the fix which could make a reality out of magical past expectations. Because after having prolonged feelings of emptiness even after the semi-normal high school blues, those expectations changed. I’m not looking for chunky knit sweaters around a camp fire, or clever androgynous girls who watch Rachel Maddow, or even life-changing round table class discussions on how to save the world. I’d settle for any direction, any light at the end of the tunnel to optimism. 

Where do you look for direction? Or possibly inspiration?

When by definition they are things which you stumble upon, not consciously decide. Usually an unexplainable desire in your gut serves as a compass. Without the correct desire for this stage in life feelings of numbness run rampant, which by definition is also impossible. Being numb is supposed to mean the opposite of feeling. But alas sensory cortexes can identify numbness. When this happens simultaneously with the search for a bright colorful path. And although two impossible events are happening no rainbows are produced, only a let down of black and white.

If I have to spend one more night with my roommate and her boyfriend, at least, one of use three will surely be sleeping outside. Never have I been more excited to inflict a college rule: “no guests for more than three nights, for more than twice a month.” Thank. you.