i think both the extravagance and difficulty of

i think both the extravagance and difficulty of living is that you have a choice. so, so many of them. part of awareness is realizing how many of these choices are at your disposal if only you would leave your room. when you care about freedom, about not only living but being alive, this becomes a double-edged sword kind of situation. you can doanything. and this is why i am indecisive, why long-term goals are out of my range of thinking. and still, the clock is ticking.

and i always want to live now, right this instant i want to live in london, because i am impulsive, but i always delay living until tomorrow. i realize i seek a different sort of lifestyle that completely falls off the radar of normalcy. i want to do daring things, put my mind to the test and my heart on the line. i want to stop always doing what contributes to happiness and instead do what contributes to simply living. i follow my intuition so often that it is rare i find myself in ruts, at least situationally, not the kind where i often mentally and emotionally wage with myself. i want to, at least momentarily, experience what it is like to love someone temporarily. to just, date. to see if i can just get over my fear of intimacy because so many others can do it. i am so tied on the idea of permanence. this does not mean i want to feel hurt, that i don’t believe i deserve the life i’ve been following. i just want to know what it is like to let myself be blindly vulnerable. i’m so often in control of my life that everything manages to pan out well for me. i want to feel on edge, to flirt with danger. i want my body to tremble next to a stranger and then flash red lights begging me to say, “no, i can’t do this,” leading me to ask him to kindly leave. is this insane? totally. i want my morals to stop always acting as a compass for the way that i lead my life. i am so hyperaware of what i believe in and what i don’t, what fits me and what doesn’t. i want to stop playing it safe, because that’s what i have been doing. i want to know what it’s like to be caught on fire. i want to know what it’s like to fall without the certainty that there is a trampoline on the bottom to bounce me back to my groundings. i want to fall and see if i will grow wings along the way, because my god, i will have to. i want to play with uncertainty.

i remember when i used to be such a wakeful dreamer, one who sought out experiences past the horizon and jumped at any opportunity to connect with others. i have now hit a point in my life where i have become so comfortable in my current surroundings that i haven’t been dreaming of being anywhere else. but one should never be too comfortable for too long. i have mixed feelings about the way i feel now, because i spent nearly eight months fighting between madness and discontentedness that i actually reached this equilibrium. “you were really depressed in september,” my friend tells me. i didn’t even realize it at the time, i still didn’t until she had told me. i don’t think i like balance. i always need some sort of movement in my life, i need to know that i’m not being stagnant. i like madness, that’s what i like, in any shape or form. madness becomes a story. and when i feel uncontrollably mad, i will say that i yearn balance. none of me ever makes sense, i’m used to it by now.

it’s taken me years to even out my life to the point where it is now, but now it has no longer plateaued but follows a downward slope.

i seek meaning. so much of it that it’s agonizing.

i never fear living a boring life until i actually do feel that i am. and this drives me crazy, not but crazy enough to change it. so this where the problem really arises: stunted passion.

i am insane for thinking this, but you can’t tell me that it has never crossed your mind to live alternate identities, say, an astronaut, one who hitchhikes across america, a starving musician, a regular drunk at a bar in a foreign city? maybe it’s just me, but i’ve always been enthralled with the idea of starting new lives.

i want to be silent, completely silent, only communicating through gestures. i want to black out, unafraid of what i may do. i want to pretend to be homeless, just to see what it’s like to be on the other end of humanity. i want to be so many people but there are not enough worlds to contain my alter-egos, because i always come back to this me. i never leave me at all. i am too faithful to myself. i am always fighting for my happiness.

and these ideas always sound so good in my head but never find their way to reality. fuck.

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