I'm going to go off the record with this post. Meaning, I've turned off all the RSS feeds to any of my hundred other online outlets that would allow anyone else to peek around.
Let's get intimate, Blogger. It's just you. And me.
I'm depressingly bored. Or, boringly depressed. Either way you put it, I'm not leaping out of bed in the morning. I want to inhabit someone else's life. Take over their size sevens. I've always wanted to have size seven feet.
I'm ready to give in.
Give me the blue house and white picket fence once and for all. Give me the dog and the laundry and the groceries. Let me be satisfied with a life of percolating black coffee every morning, two sugars, one cream, kissing my husband goodbye, saying "Love you, babe" and believing that is all I've ever wanted out of life.
Let me be proud of small accomplishments, a well-hedged lawn, a bed made every morning and turned down every night. No dents in the car, no cracks in my proverbial sidewalk.
I surrender to the expected, to the routine. To the punch of the timeclock every day at the same time. To render ideas with no implementation. To be ineffective but remain jovial. Day in. Day out.
I don't want to be me anymore. It's too hard.
I want to be happy with the circumstances I'm given and never question anything. I want to settle and for once not regret it. I want to be a regular, not a small, not a large. I want to be the safe choice. Please let me live without ever having to know frustration or unmet potential. I don't want to know how things could have been. I want to concede to things I can't change, to accept futures that don't make waves, to live contentedly, concentrating only on being the best ordinary me I can be.
I don't want to grow up and have to be something.
And Blogger, I want this now.
I just want to be overlooked. I'm done with expecting anything other than the reliably pedestrian life that would never, ever, ever include this immutable heartbreak that just won't let me for one god damned day wake up without it.
I'm ready.
June 2018
6 years ago
8 comments:
You'd work hard to get all that and then have a heavy shock of reality one day. I don't "know you" per se, but from where I've been lurking I know this to be true.
Don't strive to just "be". Be spectacular.
My life is remarkably pedestrian and I can't accept it for the life of me. But, give me opportunities to change that and I'll run and hide. It's a damn curse. And I'm tired too. Perhaps we need a house with a picket fence in the same neighborhood. And, then we could burn that shit to the ground.
It seems to me that women have been trick fucked by life. You are programed by your DNA to be wives and mothers, suckle your young, make a great meatloaf and feather your nest. Then someone burns their bra and starts breaking glass ceilings and tells you that being a wife and mother isn't good enough, you have to be a CEO or at least aspire to be. You are made to believe that you are something to be pitied if you are JUST a wife and mother,with two kids, a dog, a white picket fence and a loving husband. Don't buy into the bullshit, if being an executive makes you happy go for it, but if living a life in the suburbs with hubby and tribe is your goal, don't let anyone convince you that it's not worthwhile.
From all the many posts, since the "hellafied" archives to the current, I have always continued to read simply because I find you different than who I am, creative with words in ways I can't be. You've inspired me to find the writer in me, instead of losing myself in my thoughts, and never learning about who I can be. I'm sure it's hard sometimes, feeling desperate, but if it's the house and kids with the husband you want, it'll come far sooner than you'd expect; but how would you feel if you tunnel vision your way there and miss how you got there? I don't know, all I'm saying people read your thoughts because what you say is interesting, great, inspiring and so many other good things. Why would you want to change that? Why would you want to give that up? Be you. So few people are.
You even make lies sound poetic.
Some days, that reality sounds good...
And then you realize that you feel more than that, and there's no way you could ever be happy with that kind of life, if that's not what you already want.
You don't have to grow up, certainly not gracefully. You just have to grow older. The rest is bonus material.
I'm new, and enjoyed the read. Will be adding you to my daily list!
This was really fantastic. I know exactly what you're talking about because I feel precisely the same way these days. I'm sick of needing things to be "just so." I'd like them to just "be" for a while.
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