S A R A

Ch 28

27

9 Months Later

But now, it seemed that after all the triumphant thoughts pass, there was actually the matter of living this life as successfully as I thought I could.

I think, for me, I was hiding behind my art and used it to justify my social reclusiveness.

Which perhaps is a point, but it is not enough for me anymore.

And though I was debatably pretty enough, there was nobody really to acknowledge it. Nobody other than the ones that used me.

I didn't know what to do but decided that I had to smart small. After thinking long hard, i decided to call up a girl from school. but she said she was with her other friend, visiting from France but that shed let me know if anything was up layer tonight. So the was that.

Then I decided that maybe I was enough. And I am what I am whether somebody is thereto acknowledge it the whole time. The more desperate I got, the less I walked away with. So I decided to walk away myself and trust in that a good thing will come along when its me. like a good book or a song that finds you exactly a the moment that you need it.

Dixie was also a wild card in our relationship. It seemed like through all of our time apart, we also grew apart. She got new friends and her taste has not become any less, well, eclectic for mine.

But so far, she was all I had for a friend. Yet, together it felt off and as if we were expecting something else from each other and as if both of our expectations were failing to be met.

She tried to offer advice and new jobs take to take on, all from good intentions, but all of which were irrelevant to me now.

It is still so strange to me how it can all be so different...Who we know we are or who the think we know ourselves to be, anyhow others see us.

I sat in my room with the radio on as the sun made its round around the world.

Movement...I need movement in my life. Anything, but how?

The longer I sat in my room, the more the fear took a hold of me.

The fear of being alone, of making a mistake, or a turn which can't be undone.

I think I used to love and hate summer all at the same time.

It is supposedly a time of freedom and warmth, but with nothing to do you only have the freedom to choose which new prison to lock yourself in.

And even then...

I don't think I've ever felt less inspired.

Maybe if I could finish something, like a book, for once then I'd feel less like I'm drifting and more like I'm something.

Maybe I could make something out of my self. But everyday drips into the next like melting liquid with no way of stopping or changing this current that I'm in. Is there a way?

12:04am

I woke up in a jolt, I must have fallen asleep at 5 and woken up just now.

Haden. Dammit, his name again. The first thing on my mind when I go to sleep, and the first when I wake. My subconscious was still very much not under my control.

They say we are the generation of entitlement. Apparently, we think we deserve everything without doing anything. I don't think so, it's not that we don't want to do anything, it's just that maybe we don't know how.

I wonder what my daughter's generation will be pointed at for. But for that I'd have to first have kids, which requires someone to fall in love with me, or love me back at least. But then again, IVF systems are all in these days, no wonder.