I change my own world with each sunrise. I begin each horizon with aspirations and cloud nines. The sun rests on my face and a smile appears. I create my own challenges and am my biggest obstacle. I’m stubborn and I’m passionate. I’m giddy and calm. Wild at heart and content at home. Nearly everything I have is because I earned it. I have to learn the hard way, and trust me, I have. and I have been humbled by it all. Every journey taken is because my heart took me down that road and it has been a blessing for my eyes to experience so many beauties and hardships of the world. Every one of my desires is fueled by a fire in my heart. The fire is unpredictable and spastic. I want what I want and that is okay. I fear what I fear and my world continues to spin. My world, which can be filled with doubts and hardship, doesn’t have just a silver lining. It has a gold border. I take so many things for granted that I am learning not to. My world has pink and orange clouds to greet me in the morning and the same ones to wish me a good nights sleep. My world has grass in between my toes and freckled lemonade in my fingertips. My world has snowflakes in my hair and rain boots on my feet. My world has conversations with strangers and hugs from lovers. My world is beautiful. My dreams light up the sky like the Christmas lights in my room. My fears have begun seeping into the ground like raindrops. I have reached a place beyond contentment. I have reached a place of happiness and although not a destination, I like this part of the journey. The part that lets the smile rest on my lips for no reason and where my heart is happy for hours after the sun says goodnight. I like where I am right this second. Happy.
I sit here. And I listen. Literary irony. Neurotransmitters. Postmodernism. Blah. Blah. Blah. I sit here. And I see. Outdated green board and white chalk. Poorly dressed and awkward professor. Bare white walls and emergency procedures. Blur. Blur. Blur. I sit here. And I smell. Malfunctioning air conditioner. Cheap perfume. Desperation for the clock to move. Stale. Stale. Stale. I sit here. And I touch. Laminated wooden desks. Pen and paper. Unsupportive plastic chairs. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. I sit here. And I think. I think about my ability to stand up and leave. My ability to change my mind at any given moment and choose fresh air and mountain views instead. I’m think about curling irons and concealer. How to hide the dark under my eye and zit on my face. I’m thinking about nude versus bright red pumps. Which one will I feel most sophisticated in. I’m thinking about the punching bag downstairs. Punch. One, two, three. Kick. I’m thinking about Lil Wayne in my ear as sweat drips down my face. I’m thinking about the results I want and the healthiest way to get there. I’m thinking about the sleepless nights staring at the ceiling fan. The pain never subsides and nothing can dim it down. It encompasses my every moment. I’m thinking about the lack of ability of the doctors. The tears and frustration that are dominant but the more passive optimism that the medications bring. I think about what else I can do. I’m thinking about real life. These white walls are only one piece of what is important to me. And they are only important because society has made them that way. My mind is cluttered with doubts and optimism. With what ifs and how does that works. With regrets and to do lists. And yet here I sit. Unable to change a thing. Success is determined by these laminated wooden desks and tacky professor. By my ability to make sense of the words spoken and concepts used. Society may control that my part of my life, and I will succeed based on those standards but society cannot control what consumes my real life. My thoughts will draft and I will daydream but why not embrace it. Life is a waste if spent structured around white chalk green boards but walking around through the fields of ones thoughts can present a completely different view point on the world. Spend time there. It is beautiful. And it is meaningful. Smells better too.