La La Land (Pt 2)

To be enabled to live a lie. It is safe in here. It is kind.

It shields the dangers and their allures,

The success unconditional and failure, ever so forgiving.

Here, I prosper in LA, LA LAND.

Too afraid, too fearful of daring to begin, I plan, and I manifest.

Excuses and cautionary.

Then I back myself back.

I am coward; I am fearful. Oh, how I cry, cry, cry.

When will I allow myself to begin?

F.E.A.R.

I am so sick of posting the right amount of fucked up—that being—a meme that garners a feeling of joint, coming of age thoughts, instead of writing how I actually feel.

Suffering through the cramps of my monthly, I can say that I feel like a disappointment. And I am sure I am not alone. I feel like a failure. And so do you? We are probably asking ourselves the same question I bet too. Has any of this been for anything?

Really, though? Because I feel like I’m broke, unemployed, a college drop-out-lying to herself, to anyone who sees some version of togetherness, so that I don’t have to say it aloud. I HATE MY LIFE. Just so that I don’t have to say I fucked up—badly! I’m running out of time to get my shit together.

Now I will stop myself here, sounding ever so dramatic.

No, I am not dying.

No, I do not have a terminal illness—although the hypochondriac in me is reaching to knock on wood. Done!

It is just the ugliness of teenage dreams—big dreams and a whole lot of anxiety that says I have a specific time slot to prove myself, are clinging to 18 like white on rice. And it’s all on me.

And I will not have all the answers now. Not at 12:00AM. Not 10 hours, or days, or years from now—although I hope I will be happier then, otherwise, the underlying sense of redemption in these writings falls short. :)

What I do know is this: I have to do better. Me.

Step 1. Own your mess.

For months I’ve been missing classes, spending on what I cannot afford, trying to shop with 20 dollars for two weeks, planning trips with friends, all to fill a void that I cannot quite fill enough. I am so uninspired by a day that begins at 1, 2, 3 PM sleeping in 'til noon to take up most of an empty day. I am so uninspired by this small world around me. I want more for myself, but I need more from myself. I need to do better, man. I do, really. Because this is just not cutting it!

I want to be happy for my friends who are starting new jobs, happy in school, travelling the world. And I am. They deserve the world. And more. I just wish I had someplace I was going.

And I do. You see, here is the silver lining to all of this crap. I know it's there. Seven months ago, I gave up on my big dream, my great love story. It took me flunking out of university, to realise that love again. I wouldn't have known that if I was getting straight A's—I would have bought into the high school version of happiness and success—a scorecard. I am not oblivious to my failures, they are my power, and every day I begin to know more about who I want to be and how I will be that person.

Sometimes it is easier to wallow in our sadness and pain. It is easier to feel sorry for ourselves than acknowledge we need to work harder—not just professionally but, every day take some time to love yourself, invest in you before you ask the world too.

So on a final note-change!

Stop indulging in your mess. Most importantly, stop with the fear. Maybe I'm not good enough... for this person's idea of talent or beauty, but I am enough, and a bag of chips! The best version IS yet to come!