I should be writing my government paper or studying for a test next week but my mind is not focused on such things which makes these important activities impossible to conquer. I have grown much too pale from living in shadows, and if this absence of light keeps up for much longer, I will surely turn the color of transparency. When no one else was around to hear, I have spoken with great ease, choosing my words with precision and mandating my point leaving no room for confusion, but when faced with an audience, listeners, I am left without a voice. What a lonely life I lead! I should be making my way and searching for love, but I have never had a talent for reading maps, and I don’t think there is a flirtatious bone in my body. Almost 25, I often wonder if I’m still alive, and now standing in front of a crowded shelf displaying a thousand dreams, I’m guessing none of them would really have fit me. I need to write again as faithfully as before, and record every unimportant, irrelevant, mundane detail that inhabits my daily life until I retrieve my groove and am able to create a work of art, a piece of paper displaying a wide array of letters, pieced together just right, to form a masterpiece. I need to believe in myself again but the consistency of my optimism is not consistent at all, and I am feeling much like a resident at the zoo. I can never seem to capture “the moment” for when I do the moment is spoiled, but it was with this realization that I discovered my truth: constant analysis and awareness will lessen the ability to react naturally and steal the opportunity to confess honesty. I must learn how to see the world instead of worrying how the world sees me.
February 9, 2002