The brain is a wonderous thing, while working. Mine seems to have presumed independance of thoughts, needs and desires. It, along with my common sense, is on hiatus. Infrequently the two can be seen strolling about, arm in arm, without a care in the world. In the meantime, I am left floating.
Does this entry sound sci-fi enough yet? It's not really. I am merely personifying the detatched way in which I have been living life for the past few months - if not the years. All sense of reason, concern and care seem to have left me. It matters not a whit how anything in life functions and fairs. In a word, I have become rather blasse about everything in and around my life.
Perhaps this has much to do with routine. For as long as I can remember, my parents have been first creating timetables for, and then encouraging me to make them for myself. Routine, schedule, order. I have an immense dislike for these words, these actions, these concepts. I can not fight them. No, I am the good little girl who listens to her parents. Much as thoughts and ideas of rebellion run through my head, I know I will never give in to them. I am not a hostage to them, but they captives of my desires and some inner need - probably the need of freedom and control over my own life.
I promise I am not digressing. This issue of control is central to much of the conflict in my mind. Most of it is probably just a creation of my own will. After all, it is the parents' responsibility to look out for the well-being of their child. Their concern is touching, but my parents - especially my father - are overwhelming. College seems like the perfect escape. I fantasize and plan of all the things I will be able to do when I get away from my parents. I look forward to being the master of my decisions. I look forward to breaking free from the opressive bonds of time. But really, these are dreams and delusions. Lies I tell myself to get through the present. They are lies not because the concepts of routine and schedule, discipline and order are ingrained into me by now. They are not lies because I constantly live in the shadow of my parents' control. No, they are lies because the freedom I yearn for is not what life holds for me. My future, self-chosen, is a rigid one that requires the boundaries my parents have set for me from an early time.
Alright, so I might have digressed a bit. The tumultuous confusion this inner battle for freedom and control has created is the direct cause of the separation between my awareness and reality.
The best I can describe this feeling as is floating. Each day merges into the next, indifferent from the one before or the one that will follow. There are no family vacations or momentuous occasions that mark any particular day. Each is as similar to the next, as the previous one was to it. The greatest source of excitement culminated in the form of a visitation from my cousins after a good many years (about three). Yet that too was unexciting. It merely passed by. There doesn't seem to be any source of joy, fun or fervor. Life has become stagnant, while I had hoped this summer would prove to be more eventful; a time of growth. Or perhaps, it is my mindset. Maybe I can't move forward or appreciate each individual day, because I am expecting the extraordinary, a dream, in a world of reality.
I am bored of reality and the mundane. I want, I expect and I demand the surreal, the crazy and the unexpected.