Sometimes, you just have to find a reason to hate someone. That or just find someone else. Am I fickle? Is she?
And she. I never thought to do a google search. Funny how someone’s life can be wrapped up so neatly like that. I see it and I’m underwhelmed. Suddenly it means nothing really. Ivy league education. Literary aspirations. Soft voice. I suppose it really amounts to nothing, and I don’t think it will. Though, a few moments ago I wish it had.
But I do believe it is extremely difficult to define your own voice in art. The world I’ve chosen, it is so clear (albeit also very difficult) to distinguish yourself as something new and good. With her though, anything that falls short can be regarding as some cheap approximation of the real thing. And that’s rough. And it’s so hard. I find it incredibly easy to criticize it. Is she naive? Am I?
I’m mostly upset that most people can pick up and go. Or at least women. I think of Melissa and Greg, and although at the end of the day I would agree that she made the right choice… how could she do that to him? It something so cruel. Or am I upset that she made me wait it out for one month in vain. Or am I upset that she can look at her life and continue to move forward? How could she? She lives inside walls that are built upon hard work, yes, but I wonder how she would be without them. Would she rise to the challenge, get that PhD and become some professor for the rest of her days. I feel like I could never satisfy her and that is something I feared from the start. That she would leave me. I know that anything I start has to end eventually, but I also know that she can do it so easily. And at the end of the day she is good… but is that right? Is this some antiquated notion? I call myself a conventional man with boyish fantasies. Is it so childish to think about forever?
Definitely a feminist; a modern girl. And what am I? Modern? and not to elevate myself, but possibly post-modern? Can I really say that depression is some higher ground? I know that people like her do come out on top. Will I have a second coming? Can I achieve anything worthy of recognition.
But she, she lives inside walls… walls that I have rejected, but still fear. And why? It doesn’t make much sense. Perhaps it is fear of the unknown… but let’s face it. I’ve seen better writing at NYU. I’m fairly confident we can dish out some of the best stuff right now. I take comfort in the fact that most of us aren’t extremely wealthy or pampered… that you’re likely to find some who just struggled and got here, not by way of some fancy prep school.
I still love that she tried.
She saw me, and gave me a chance even with all my insecurities. I’m not afraid now, only because I know that her musings (at least those made public) are those of the happy wanderer. I tell myself, and I know that I’d rather bite the bullet than be content. I can’t accept what lies before me, and I’m in the process of losing everything because of this. I look at myself, and compare myself against others and see that right now I am nothing. No interests, no thoughts. So there are really only two directions to go from here, I can either die or strive. Sink or swim. So I should swim. I am nothing, so this will be easy. I have to embrace the fucking philosophy and start saying yes.
Forget yourself and don’t look back.
