It’s time to come clean.
And I’m not referring to all the car tagging I did in high school…whoops. I’ve been struggling to write for a while now. I log onto word press (mychaeltaylor.wordpress.com) and stare at all my posts and wonder if I will ever be able to write again (dramatic? I don’t care).
What’s so strange about life is that it constantly vomits all over us and never leaves us with a breath of fresh non-vomit air. Was that a disgusting visual? I don’t care. Recently I’ve had a death in the family, and I couldn’t help but feel angry, not at anyone in particular. Just angry. Similar to the anger I feel when I “can’t” write.
It’s not that I can’t write… It’s that (maybe) I am terrified my “self diagnosed” ADD (which I think is actually a real issue for me) is going to kick in, and I won’t be able to finish a complete thought for the life of me… or maybe I’m not trying hard enough. Maybe it’s all a “cop out” to quote my dad on accident, again.
Planning free writing to me sounds strange. I don’t like it. This isn’t a graded essay.
The most upsetting part about not adding to this blog recently, is the fact that I now have a AWESOME PROFESSIONAL logo created by the one and only Amanda Mason (what a beautiful visionary you are). I begged for her help, she made it as quick as possible, and then my mind went completely blank… I even made a facebook page to show off this brand new logo…
Also I decided, some time in the middle of a very annoying typical conversation, that I was going to start referring to myself as a “fraduate.”
Fake + “Graduate” = Fraduate
I walked August 2nd (before I walked across the stage, I was seated next to a sorority sister, and she looked over at me and said, “What’s so embarrassing is some people walk, and then actually have to take more classes, can you believe that? Like how bad would that actually suck?” I responded… “Hi, me.”… awkward silence”, and I now have 3 electives to finish. ELECTIVES. WHY OH WHY? Can’t I just be like Einstein and drop out? School has always been a challenge for me. I’ve never been able to wrap my head around paying for/ attending a class I don’t want to learn about because I NEED it to graduate… I literally have taken almost every class my University has to offer… Why do I need to have a piece of paper that says I have a bachelor’s degree. I know why, but just for the sake of the argument in my head…
This too makes me angry. A similar anger to the feeling I feel when I can’t make someone understand.
Understand “what I mean when I said that.” Understand my humor, which sometimes makes the situation funnier… because I end up laughing at myself. (One year I received “Delta Gamma’s Best Sense of Humor” Award, and the next year I received “Delta Gamma’s Most Likely to Laugh at her Own Jokes” Award. The real question is… When did I become the only person to laugh at my own jokes? I wouldn’t even consider my self a jokester.) Understand my meshed together words that I believe to be a sentence, but come out of my mouth to sound like… chubakkah’s wife. (I was once told I speak in riddles- great).
The art of understanding. Is it similar to the art of listening? Don’t you wish people would just stop cutting you off mid- sentence, and LISTEN! Why do some people have to have the answer for everything.
There isn’t an answer for everything. Everything is an “absolute” word, and it’s just as hard as using: “never” or “always.”
I’m really not an angry person, I stress myself out more than I relax myself. All my anger derives from things I can’t change, and I believe I have that in common with a few humans on this planet. Death… status quo of education, understanding why… is all conversations that could maybe go on forever.
So maybe I need to get a grip, keep writing, and get over my fear of the unknown. It’s simple anger, simple enough to ignore for the time being.
Was anyone else spanked as a child?