Tired of Restless

I'm bummed because I'm supposed to be living life right now and I don't feel like I'm doing it at all. I hate that I'm a broken record, that I say the same things over and over and do the same things over and over. I just talk about justifying the one thing I have left in my life I have that makes me excited and hopeful. The rest of it's just routine. For some reason talking to you sometimes gets me like this, because you make me think so much and thinking tends to hurt. And sure, hurt is necessary for growth, but I hate that I have to think about this one thing over and over. Why can't I think about anything else? Why can't I care about anything else? Sometimes I get bored and look up my horoscope. Today's is: "You can see what you want right at the end of your reach. If you try just a little bit harder, it can be in your grasp at the perfect time."

But that's the way I've always been. I've always been trying just a little bit harder to have things be in my grasp at a later time, but sometimes that time never comes. Sometimes I get stuck here, in this head game I'm playing right now, doubting myself and wishing my head wasn't so complicated. I know I don't really mean this, but sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to think less about everything thats going on and just go with the flow. But the flow is always so dismal and repetitive - I noticed.

Fine, no. I have no idea what on earth I'm looking for out there. But I've seen all of this before - I know the way this society works, the way all these people around me have been brought up, how they all came here because it feels like a home away from home. Except what makes my home isn't that everyone is white, or that I come from the upper middle class, or that basically everyone is Catholic. This doesn't remind me of home, being here, because in some weird way being home is so much more like the real world - probably because my home is the home of the people I love and trust. I also seem to suck at making relationships of love and trust in less than oh, maybe a year or two, so I can't expect myself to love someplace new instantly.

But why can't I? So many kids got lucky - they found places that they love, places and people that they would never dream of leaving. I can't decide if it's my fault or not, not being able to find the passion and love of life that I've been missing. Why can't I have anything better to do with my time than think of ways to explain this feeling that's just become another part of daily life? I call home and hear my mom's voice, and I think of how happy she is in one place, with one person, and how her day is made brighter just by getting to tell me all about her surprise birthday weekend. I wish that I could be that, instead of having to read my horoscope and hear again how restless I was born to be. I'm tired of being restless - I guess that's poetic, in a strange sense. Restlessness is what defines me and breaks me, all at the same time. I wish I could tell you one reason why I would stay here - you don't know how much I wish I could name something. The fact that I don't find anywhere to throw an anchor is maybe the reason I need to keep on sailing, because nothing's caught me up and made me stop. The growing and changing I've done this year has been so heavily self-inflicted that I really need something else to do the pushing for me.

If I was able to scope out and search for relationships the way you do, maybe I'd have incentive to stay. But I guess I just stick with what I know, what's going on in my own head and heart, and I listen to that before anything else. I don't see challenges so much in people as in other things, though I know that people are what make anything worth it. I can't get the notion out of my head that I'm still failing at getting close to people, and that's what I'm supposed to be doing. Maybe that's why I can't take such a small atmosphere, because it bugs me when everyone knows everyone else's business, good or bad.

And once again, I need to get back to work, where the world makes sense. God, I wish it didn't work like that. Maybe it works the other way in some people's heads - what happens out in the world makes more sense than what happens in their heads in a classroom? What would that be like?