here i sit

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 Outdated green board and white chalk.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.

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brennabeluga

Just a lost soul trying to make sense of the world

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