I think we all fake it sometimes. Fake happiness, fake sympathy, fake caring for someone, fake out our teachers.. the list goes on. Simon and Garfunkel's song "Fakin' it" is fucking siiick. This whole greatest hits CD is really awesome. This music is beyond groovy; it relaxes me. I can relate to a lot of their lyrics. Now I am not saying I am a big faker. But it is quite easy to be. Especially regarding school, haha, I make my teachers think I care soo much and do all the reading. The truth is I think I get a huge rush out of waiting to the last possible second before beginning my schoolwork. Then I fly through it, with all the pressure, and come up short. Of course I come up short. But for the most part it gets done. I guess I like to get away with doing the least possible amount of work, which is truly pathetic. I will not get very far doing that, I recognize.
My mind is seriously foggy and clogged. I have had writer's block for ages it feels like. Maybe that is an excuse, I don't know. But truthfully my passion for writing has gone out the window. I know that I suck at writing. I certainly never get any props for it. I can't write poetry, I can't write prose, I would never have the patience to complete a memoir. It gets me down. Like this blog for example. If you ask me it is chock full of complaints and immature self doubt. I think I crave reassurance. Well guess what girl that is no way to get by. I am ridiculous for thinking people would actually someday pay for my work. I actually considered being a "freelance" writer, as a way to earn money, so sad, but true. I will never be good enough. I have no career ambitions, no chance at success, no ideas, no brain power, no talent, no nothing. Nothing. This is pessimistic but I am realistic. I am nobody. I am in college, two semesters down now and I still have no clues. Did I actually think I would? Yes, I had hope.
I long to play "Operation". It sounds pretty fun right about now. Pulling shit out of a body with tweezers. Maybe I should be a surgeon... Heck no!!!!
There was the girl in my poetry class. She could sing and speak with inflection; she was a musical theatre major. I was studying her the other day at our poetry slam, and realized something. She is stuck up. I thought she was kind of cool, kind of ballsy (for singing opera in front of our class). My opinion has changed however. I like to study and watch people, especially when I am high. I feel like I can know them, at least briefly, for who they really are. I can tell when people are putting on a show, and I do not really understand it. I can relate to it though. Sometimes I have to literally act confident. I have to tell myself to be a certain way, or else I will sit there so quiet, so withdrawn, so invisible. It is not fair how some people have it all: talent, intelligence, comedic value, good looks, money, a car. There are seriously people that have all that. And what about me? I try to be grateful, for my health, my life. But what else? Is there anything else really? Or were all of those things I listed completely superficial. How sad. I want to know the difference. I want to be different. I want to be someone. No matter how I look at myself, when I look within I see significance. I have to, have to, HAVE TO remember this.
These waves of confidence and then insecurity, star power and then shyness. Never ends. N-E-V-E-R. Make it stop. PLease. STop. Be normal. Be free at last. Quit being a slave to your brain. It will not guide you. Follow your heart and God, Sarah. If not then I think you will always be screwed over, stepped on, stabbed in the back, lied to, talked about, mistreated. Yes I am talking to myself as if I am another person. At this sincere moment of crazyness, it is time to log off. Good night.