It's Kind of a Funny Story
...just rambling...
I waste at least an hour every day lying in bed. Then I waste time pacing. I waste time thinking. I waste time being quiet and not saying anything because I'm afraid I'll stutter.”
― Ned Vizzini, It's Kind of a Funny Story
Even when the sun is sinking, it is still hot. I was born into a solid vacuum and had just awoken from sleep. I've attempted to snooze more in the daytime. I had also resolved to go to bed earlier from this point forward. Many times have I failed. I'm not sure if what's bothering me is the loss of order or the liberation. All I know is that I have struggled with sleep for a very long time.
Like all battles, there is a moment of ceasefire where I think it is all over and try to bask in the sanity it offers.
…Every morning, as easy as it may sound and as challenging as it may seem, I wake up with the desire to act right, to be a good and significant person. And throughout the course of each day, my heart would sink into my stomach from my chest. By early afternoon, the feeling that nothing is right—or is right for this individual—and the need for solitude has completely taken over. By the end of the day, I am content, alone in the depths of my thoughts, alone in my senseless guilt, and even alone in my loneliness. I would keep telling myself, "I'm not sad," over and over. Someone else, somewhere else, somebody else. That’s not me. I do wonder if it’s my sudden embrace of stoicism latel.
I believe there is an end to all of this. Sometimes my conscious effort may not yield results but I try. I truly do. With the whole adulting situation and the almost usual emotional drama, I am even more worried and unperturbed, numb even.
You see, my friend, I just let life happen. My life is an unoccupied white room, it has infinite potential for bliss. At the foot of my bed, like some domesticated animal that is not at all a part of me, I fall asleep with my heart. And every morning, despite getting a bit heavier and weaker, I awake with it still pulsing in the cupboard of my rib cage. And by midday I’m once again seized by the urge, to be somewhere else, someone else.
Life has to happen. And I go on, living each day, collecting memories in a box so I can remember when I’m eighty and smile.
I said to a friend that I have a ton of goals for this year. She requested details and suggested that I make a list of them. Now, that I'm looking at the list, I see how much I still haven't accomplished. It was planned to last a year. For crying out loud, it's June!!
No matter how much I read and strive to broaden my knowledge, there are times when I am astounded by my pure naivete about the world. A part of my journal reads “I want to do a lot of things this year. Read books by authors who my tongue has to bend to pronounce their names. Write stories and poems that beat from my heart. I want to learn the meaning of beautiful words, comprehend the misery hidden behind life's tumult, and never walk alone. I'm aware that solitude is difficult. But a sensibility I never believed I possessed is waking amid the solitude.”
I want to volunteer for causes I am passionate about; fashion and arts, mental health, book clubs, and tech communities. With the free time I have, I want to fully commit to everything. I'm itching to write, read, and code furiously. I do not want to exist so much in my head that I neglect the world around me.
“Don’t aim at success, the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one’s destination to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it. I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it.”
- Viktor E Frankl
Writing has made me conscious about knowing myself. I’m self-conscious and self-aware. I know how much validation I often want. I’m learning to do things because there is a burning desire to. Not for the pats on my back or positive feedback (which are okay).
I also joined a book club. I’m getting back the reasons why I started at first. I’m seeing the light. I’m enjoying this phase of my life even on days when I do not feel like it.
I’m learning to pause and look at how far I’ve come. To enjoy and trust the process. The show must simply go on.
Finally, I am grateful to you, my friend. Thank you for reading. Don't forget to share.