April Awakening: Day 3
Today it actually felt real. Things felt tangible to me for the first time in a long while. I was present in the moment, and there wasn’t a bunch of mysticism surrounding it. I woke up early and headed to a diner I hadn’t ever been to before. Usually I bring my laptop so I could write, but today I unplugged and I brought a book I’d been pouring through for the past few months. I was seated right away. No one asked me for any kind of proof of a medical procedure. I may have some PTSD from all that segregation. But I sat, I ordered breakfast, and read. I did laundry. I hung some portraits. I had these nice little moments with myself. Some of many I feel like I’ll be having for the rest of my life.
Part of me used to think the clearer I was, the more my path would manifest in front of me. Stoned thinking usually leads to some not-so-down-to-earth conclusions. Usually, I’d see the signals that something I’ve been hoping on for years was in fact coming to me. But that’s not happening this time. In fact, the exact opposite is occurring. I feel like my time has been wasted, I feel like it’s too late, and I feel like there’s no point in wishing on a sense that’s just not there. It may be time to hang it all up for real. I’m not about to force something into place that’s not meant to be, as it’s not in my best interest to break the sound barrier by screaming too loud into the receiver.
I’ve been in the silence for over forty-eight hours. It’s much easier to be without social media than I thought it would be. But I really feel the rain cloud looming overhead this time around. I’m trying to find an excuse as to why I feel like this, like I’m facing some anxiety as my thirty-sixth year approaches. But it really feels like something different this time. Like I really could end up alone forever. No matter what happens, no matter who crosses my path, no one will ever find the connection to me ever again. Lose my number, because I’m already lost. Maybe I’m just meant to be a solo entity. Maybe no one is meant to relate to me in the traditional sense. Maybe this life just has more on the line for me than what I previously thought.
I’m struggling. I know everyone is, but I really don’t feel like I’m able to properly portray just how hard it feels right now. It’s like I have to worry about everyone else before I can be the first on call. I don’t know how to get over this, either. I don’t know what it’s going to take. Perhaps it’s still too early to tell. But as long as I keep dialing into the right phonelines, I can stop worrying about who’s not showing up on mine. It’s taking all that’s in me to not roll a blunt right now. Or sip some whisky. Do something that will combat this never-ending boredom. This recycled anxiety with nowhere to go but in and out of my inner call box.
I’ll get over it. I’m hearing that dial tone. Someone has to hang it up eventually, and it may as well be me.