Familiar sounds snap me out of my fear of darkness, where invisible things happen that shouldn’t. Plans for the morrow comfort me from the monster voices in my head telling me I won’t make it. There are so many of them, but the scariest one of all is my own.
This morning I almost didn’t make it. To work. My car hit some black ice and I slid all over the place like an Etch A Sketch until I lost total control and ended up on the grass on the side of the road, about to go on the ramp to the highway, after having just missed hitting a yield sign. I feel like I skipped a breath before putting my car into Park. Then, behind me, a tow truck showed up, police lights blazing, stopped next to me. The driver came out and walked up to my window. He asked if I’m alright. In a daze, I sputtered out, “I don’t know. I have no idea…” He told me to stay put and he’ll take a look at my car. He told me everything seems to be fine. I only slid around a little on ice as he did.
Then he pointed at the grassy area in front and told me how to get back on the highway.
After watching The Other Woman again today, I wanted one of two things: either to get married so I could get cheated on so I could become friends with my husband’s mistresses or to build a house with an all glass window room (I know, this is not the best description ever) where I would put a table right where the sun would blast me every morning as I drank my coffee. All of this just so I know what it’s like and then it’s on to the next experience I could potentially write about. Don’t judge me.
There are so many places in America I still haven’t seen. Come to think of it, so many places in my country of origin I haven’t seen either.
Sometimes I truly think the world would be a better place if I shut up for good; other times I see just how broken this world really is and feel so guilty if I didn’t speak up. I’m not one of those people who thinks she’s so special she could change the world. I’m just an observer who loves living vicariously through everyone else, collecting stories through my six senses that mostly don’t end up as a remixed alphabet.
Where do they end up? That’s a good question. They run marathons through my brain and the ones that keep coming back end up on the page somehow. The ones that don’t are forgotten forever like I had a nail to the head.
But there are moments when I really want someone to just know what I mean without exactly reading my mind. I think I’m better off expressing myself not through words. Maybe a little through dance and a little through random gestures. That’s about all I’m capable of.
I can’t get this song or music video out of my head. People say she has a baby face and it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s trying to look, well, the way she does in this music video. I get it. This version is missing the part by A$AP Rocky.
I like it because it’s a simple song about that exciting feeling you get when you’re putting in extra effort to “look good for ya” to someone, especially when it’s not really expected of you to act this way.
I meant to do updates about being a crazy writer. I don’t think I’ve been very good at that. I mean, from my posts lately you can kind of see I’ve been going through some major defining moments. (And that might not be the best word choice here.) What I mean is, I’ve been sitting down and actually defining for myself what concepts mean to me and how I really feel about something. (OK, that wasn’t too clear either. Perhaps a part of being a crazy writer? :P) For example, my recent post on marriage explained how I personally felt about it and its relation to my happiness.
However, I meant to write about my experience being a writer and existing as a human being and trying to make it as a writer. I will try to be better about this because I really do want to do this. I think I’ve just been having trouble with where to start. (That could seriously be a blog post all on its own, couldn’t it?) That, and figuring out what to reveal and what not to reveal. Words are mightier than the sword, but they are more troublesome than the sword too. Just sayin’.
What are we overanalyzing for? Unless it’s for a Calculus (I love how I have to capitalize all my school subjects like they were that important) problem, why are we constantly going over and over again in our heads what someone said or did and what they meant by that and how we feel about it and then how we feel about them as a result of our conclusions about what happened? (Phew! That was a lot of work just the get that all out.)
When we overanalyze other people’s words and actions, we tire ourselves out. That is a fact. Whether you are a guy or a gal, I’m sure at some point in your life you have overanalyzed what something someone either said or did to you. Or didn’t do. Maybe you even do it several times a week. Dare I even say several times a day? Some days are better than others.
Why can’t we just accept that whoever is a true friend, whoever truly cares about us, will find a way to show it and make time for us no matter what and leave it at that? We can’t, so we go right back to analyzing. It’s like we as humans need constant validation that someone cares about us, that yes, we are worthy.
But if we get to the point of overanalyzing, think about what we don’t accomplish. If we are overanalyzing, the situation is out of our control. If it is out of our control, we must accept whatever outcome comes out. I think acceptance is the hardest part of this process. If we can’t accept this fact, we continue down the path of overanalyzation. It’s right at the intersection of Acceptance and Insanity. How much time you waste by overanalyzing, yet you still do it!
As a fellow overanalyzer, I have no tips for you for how you stop yourself. Maybe we just need to accept that we overanalyze. 🙂
Not much has been said about
the many bodies on my wall where the water runs to clean the shampoo container.
Neither have the bodies on the floor by the door corners have been talked about.
I guess I’m the only one who’s noticed.
Or no one else has been up here.
Either that or no one can understand my descriptions…
At least it feels that way to me.
Whatever I say or do, someone has a reaction if they are around. If no one is around, someone would have an opinion about it if I tell them later or they find out later. A lot of times, if I say something, I can see a person’s immediate reaction on their face. (They always have one, whether you catch it or not.) Judgment.
And it doesn’t have to be a negative thing. I think there can be good judgment too. But it seems to me sometimes it’s easier to stay home because we don’t want to face any kind of judgment. We don’t want to see someone’s disappointed reaction on their face. We’d rather commit whatever sins in private and then not talk about it again because we know it’s something we cannot control of ourselves and we don’t want judgment for it.
But the question is, that thing you do in private, would you be afraid of your spouse finding out? Would you be afraid that that person would not love you anymore if they found out? Someone probably has a judgment for that as well. Maybe it questions the whole concept of loving someone unconditionally. Because there has to be some moments always hidden from our spouses.
I’m sure some actions are harmless. Some, however, if found out, can lead to a divorce. Are humans really capable of unconditional love?