I May Be Wrong

Rock, [Paper,] Heart

I’m stuck between a rock and a heart.  

And sadly, deep down I know…

I’d rather choose rock.

Just Me

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had this feeling deep inside that I am special. A feeling that I will be someone. A feeling that I will make something of myself.

I am destined for something.

But, I’m just me. Just Krishna….

So I want to know why.

Hurt

I’m selfless.  I put others before me.  People may think that’s bragging, but it’s not.

Especially when I let myself get hurt because of it.

Listen

When comfortable, I tend to run my mouth and talk about myself…a characteristic that I even don’t find appealing.

I’d always been trying to slowly train myself to listen more to those around me, but training requires concentration and practice. Tedious. 

When I stopped and thought about it, I realized that I actually like listening to people.  So many interesting stories and opinions to be heard, to be bathed in, to be absorbed.

Why train myself to do something I like?  Just let go and listen freely. Easy. Relaxing. Good.

It’s amazing how much I’ve learned since then.  People just want to be heard, and now I am here.

Krishna

I am a lot.

Stages

I am scared for myself.  If I’m being honest, I’m definitely scared.  I’m scared of if I don’t like where life takes me.

Everything I’ve attempted and stuck with for some time, I’ve grown to dislike in some shape or form. I look back and realize that I haven’t actually truly timelessly liked something. Tennis? No. Soccer? No. Piano? No. Violin? No. Being a soccer referee? No. Working in a cafe? Heck no. Flute? We’ll see - another post for a later time. (Theater? Yes - but it’s complicated.)

Looking at things, I shouldn’t deny the fact that I did like them once upon a time.  It’s just that I’ve moved on from those stages, and they no longer hold the appeal they once did.

What I’m scared about…is if this pattern will continue. Will I ever find something to put myself towards that I will truthfully enjoy for the rest of my life?

Maybe I’m just someone who likes change—a lot of change. But, I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m running out of time.

One

I sat myself down on the rough, steep driveway, legs out in front. The coolness of the concrete, seeping though my jeans and soothing my legs and backside. As I fiddled with the metal of the rubber car keys, I looked up.

I saw the moon and it’s craters, a reflection of the all-seeing sun. It lit up the night sky. A gradient through space, from light to dark. I mistook the stars for fireflies, twinkling as only fireflies know so well. Playing with each other. I saw beauty.

I heard the sounds of crickets, cicadas, and insects all existing together in the night. I heard a distant train to the left…east. I heard a car door close. I heard the silence of sleep that only comes once a day. I heard life.

I could smell freshly cut grass. Bagged at the end of the driveway. Work from the day. I smelled time gone by.

I felt the thin, crisp night air cleansing my lungs and thoughts. I felt insignificance. I felt pure.

I had not a care or worry in the world. Serenity. I was in tune.

One perfect moment.

I placed my hands as leverage behind my back. The roughness of the concrete cut into my hands. The sudden jarring uncomfortableness in my world whisked all wholeness away. I lost focus. Reality returned, and completeness left me.

It was short, I will not forget. For that one moment, I had perfection.

Tired

I’m tired of thinking about love - fantasizing about who’s going to take me away to the most amazing places, concrete and abstract.  It has come to haunt my daily life.

When I look at all those who are successful in life, none of them think about love.  They think about what they can do to better themselves.  They think with wise, intelligent ideas.  They think with a drive.  They think.

I’m tired of wondering if I’m liked or if people think I’m attractive.  I’m tired of thinking about what my future relationship will be like.  It gets old.  These thoughts do nothing to further my life.  They have been holding me back. 

I have more to offer the world than just boyfriend material.  Thinking that way demeans my value as a person.  Objectifying myself.

It will happen. … Or maybe it won’t.  At this point, I no longer care.  I’m much too tired.

I have bigger and better things to apply myself to.

I understand.

I am alone, but I am most certainly not lonely.