I am an emotional nit wit. My mind falls into tides of nonsensical feelings, and logical thought runs behind the rampaging emotion stampede until even the logic is tired to tears. Or perhaps that was all imagined, and in fact, logic was bored to tears -- bored by the inability to let it function.
Why is my world still tumultuous?
Perhaps the world never smoothens into at least/even a facade of smooth peace within. Will my insides always be in uproar, or does adolescent insanity extend into college life? Why? I don't want this. Hahaha, my theory on life ran parallel to Peter Pan's: I was content to never grow up and become an adult. I heard them, those adults, say "you'll wish you could go back to being a kid once you're an adult." So, I listened and instead of wishing to be an adult, I wished to remain a child, to avoid the responsibilities and pressures of adulthood. Haha, I was content to avoid everything. You name it. Love, boyfriend/girlfriend relationships, sex, children. I didn't want any of it, and I didn't ask for it. I wanted to live independently after a while, but that was the extent of it.
In fact a part of me relishes the idea of retreating from everyone and pulling a voluntary Ayla from Clan of the Cave Bear. I know this may sound . . . stupid when I've matured further, perhaps if I become a mother and have a spouse. I'll raise a baby horse through it''s childhood in the company of a dog or two in the wild. I will not have to talk, but I will spend my days singing through the work of staying alive and fending for food and shelter. And when I'm not singing, I will be silent, but it will be fine, because there will still be the sounds of live around me. The crick-crick of creepy-crawlers, the rustle of winds through leaves, even the noise of silence. I will be far away. I will not hear anyone's moans, and there will be nothing to remind me of anyone I would rather forget or not know.
Utterly selfish and self-centered.
I would regret that life after several years or when I neared death, once the realization hit me that all the people I cared about, my family and close friends, had either moved on emotionally or were dead. Then I would be truly alone, and not voluntarily.
It makes more sense to carry the peace, solitude and freedom of that imaginary place within me, my secret garden. To have and grow the peace within. I will remember.
I must finish my work before I fall asleep.
