Writer of Words

They tell me I need to change. They say I should be someone else, someone I am not.

That I should be less forgetful, less unpredictable, with more of a purpose and more of a plan. That I shouldn't spend time drawing, reading, or dreaming. I should stop thinking of things that have never been done. And though what they ask is true for perfection, it is too much for one person, just one little girl.

I like being this human that I have become.

The advice-giver, the ear-lender, the friend to all who need it.
A singer, a dancer, a speaker no matter how I look or sound.
The thought creator, the impossible dreamer, the unwritten story waiting to be heard.

I cannot leave myself behind to become someone else.

Remembering the Present

Have you ever zoned out by remembering the past? It could have been reliving a memory or just thinking about small pieces of past. When you finally wake up from that memory it seems as though you have jumped forward in time. Everything had just felt so real in your mind. There was nothing that set it apart from what is actually happening. Only when you wake up do you realize you had slipped into your memories.

What if everything you are experiencing now is just another of those memories? Your present self is actually years ahead, sitting frozen, staring into space. Others around you are wondering at your sudden silence, but you cannot hear what they say. Your mind is back in the past. It is just a matter of time before you wake up and go back to the present.

If what we feel now is just a memory, it shouldn't matter what we do now. It has all already happened, so the choices we make have already been made. The "future" is already decided from what we have already done. Nothing we do will change anything, because what we do has been factored into the true present time. We can just sit and watch our past selves make the choices that affect a later time.

It boggles my mind to think as if this were the truth. Everything would be easier if it was. The problems I feel would already be over and solved. But this is not the truth. I must continue affecting the future and trying to solve my problems.

Or perhaps, that is what I remember believing.

Sleep

I cannot sleep, it seems. I find myself once again awake when the sky is at its very darkest and sound only comes from the nocturnal creatures outside. With my bedside lamp turned on I feel as if I belong in another time when that lamp would instead a flickering candle. The glow is warm, enveloping me in its comforting light. I compose these words in a leather-bound journal reminiscent of days long past.

Still I wonder, what is it that has kept me up this night?

My mind seems empty, void of all thoughts. Perhaps it is that emptiness that keeps me awake. It is a feeling that was always so foreign to me. More recently it has come to be an ever present sensation as I lie awake in the night. It is no wonder that I would find no comfort for sleep when such a feeling lingers in my mind.

Or perhaps this empty feeling is more of a numbness. It is created by my own mind to hide the unbearable number of thoughts and ideas that lurk in my subconscious. It is a strong dose of painkillers for a suffering that no one would be able to bear. Sometimes the pressure of all the ideas does seem as if it will break me apart. If this is the reason for the numbness, I should not be surprised that my body would someday develop a defense for the blow.

As I write this out, I seem to have broken through to my pool of thoughts. It seems to be overflowing once again. the sensation of my mind once again filling up is familiar to me. I would rather have this incomprehensible mess of questions, thoughts, ideas, and plans than that numbing emptiness any day.

Perhaps now that my head is again buzzing, I may be able to sleep.