Make sense of my madness

I have Freefallin' by John Mayer on repeat because I like his voice.
Feeling hungry, but I'm lazy.
I've been snacking on this bag of chips since I walked into my room. I have no clue to whom this mighty bag of Lay's Wavy Potato Chip belongs to. I gloriously reached for it anyway. Like a calling... well it did call on to me.
Quite desperately, if I may so add.
Right off the top of my freezer I reached for it, as I have done the past two days (yes, I am sneaky). I'd of course return it back to its rightful position every night.
I believe in common ownership (I can be a Marxist, sometimes).
Sharing is caring, right?
Even though I know I have stashes of junkfood hidden in my closet, they don't interest me. A little guilty pleasure won't hurt. Life's good.

Or not.
I really don't know.

I am unsatisfied. Let me explain.
I have always been so sure of what I want to do. This sudden shift in paradigm has caused me to wonder what triggered this seemingly arbitrary unsatisfaction. For the past month of my life, I have felt empty and useless. Emotionally attached to the subjects I've been taught in class, and waking up every morning eager to put it all to practice. But every night before I sleep, I'd think that my knowledge has gone to waste.
Then came Monday, an interview for a position with the Coalition for Carleton's Sexual Assault Centre. I was thrilled. An opportunity, to possibly end my personal catastrophe.

The interview was quite an experience. I was interrogated of my feminist values. My stance on abortion was questioned, which I thought was interesting. Now, you don't get asked about that everyday, do you? But I understand the need to reveal my credibility as a potential support worker.

What disappointed me, was I started doubting myself.
Am I truly in a position capable of handling someone else's emotional crisis when I can't handle my own?
This, I think, is hypocrisy.

Maybe this isn't for me.
Maybe this is temporary insanity.
Or I'm just seeking excuses because I'm just lazy to work.

Oh, I'm such a complicated human being. Even I can't figure myself out.

This is gravity

Twisting time as ambitions scatter
Pieces and puzzles
Mind over matter
Lists of loss, of causes, of fairness
You’re but an artist
Yet, suspended.

obligations & environment

I can see my reflection in the mirror. Gap sweater, shorts and black socks. The image of pure irony and contradictions. I like to balance out my body temperature to my room. Perfection varies from a day to day basis. Essentially, I like to keep my feet and leg slightly cold. Nevertheless, as I changed out of my boots, jeans, jacket and blouse....

the words "You are where you're supposed to be" rang into my ears.

I just returned from coffee with an old friend. We talked over a cup of macchiato shots and tomato cheese sandwiches at Bridgehead. It's a fairtrade coffeehouse, cozy, and romantic. Slightly pricey in comparison to Second Cup. Equal to Starbucks, but with more options when it comes to tea.

This was a long overdue 'catching up date'. And I anticipated a slight awkwardness considering the circumstances that has occured. But it wasn't awkwardness that I experienced. It was difference. Our conversations went in every spectrum and directions. Yet, there was a degree of obligation that came with the meet. Primarily, to prove my neutrality. And a form of reluctance that came on her part, to endure this. It all seemed a little diplomatic for me, than usual. Maybe the tinge of diplomacy in our conversation was something I overlooked before. Time and difference in environment could have possible influenced this shift in dynamics in our friendship.

Environment.

You are where you're supposed to be.

There was a slight negative connotation to that statement. It was said in the context of my excuse, for isolating our friendship.

To justify myself, my decision and reaffirm my ambition. That was the explanation I owed.

Maybe I am just overanalyzing and overthinking.

Well, like a junkie that I am, I hide in my room tonight. Perhaps, pondering my existence away, and deliberately refusing to start my essay. I am starving and thinking of soup for dinner.

I am where I'm supposed to be I suppose.

Snuggled up in bed, in my happy zone on a cold winter night in Ottawa.

(I sound like a hibernating bear).

Saturday

I have a pillow propped underneath my chin and my shoulders tucked halfway in my comforter. I am savouring the slightly cold temperature in my room at the same time, feeling the warmth as I wiggle my toes. Lying on my tummy this Saturday morning. Or noon, rather. It's ten past twelve. This is lovely.

From where I'm lying, I can see I have five books scattered on the floor beside me. Books I gave up reading last night. My desk is piled with two boxes of President's Choice Chocolates, and a box chocolate chip cookie. A law and human rights textbook. Pencils, receipts. Two lotions, one with a japanese cherry blossom scent, another like peppermint. An orange peel, which I had left after eating to remove a weird after taste from my curry....

I am a slob.

But I must say, even with the sun streaming through my window and what seems to me like a good day ahead, I am not motivated.

Nope.
Today will not be spring cleaning for me.
Oh, what the hell...it's not even spring outside.

Maybe I'll jut throw the orange peel away, and put my books aside so I won't trip. Meanwhile, I shall stay in bed for another half hour before parading myself into the shower, humming away February Air by Lights.

& as I sit in my room.
With books opened, staring blankly at this laptop.
After you signed off without a goodbye.

This must be what it feels like. When I hung up on you half hour ago.

Solitude can be sweet.

Sipping my large cup of half hot chocolate and half french vanilla.
I remember last year in an Ice-Breaking session of the first day in English class. Mr. Ornstein had us answer a bunch of questionnaires in class and one of the question was "Do you prefer CHOCOLATE or Vanilla?" Ornstein obviously opted for chocolate. He was annoyed at me when I responded "cookies and cream". Good old Ornstein. I kinda miss his grouchy-ness.

Silly how a simply drink can make me feel like high school was ages ago.
I'm surprised at how it tastes slightly less sweeter than I expected.
I can see the ceiling of clouds pretty high today, from the corner window of the library.
It is milky out, but sunny. I like the sun.
I am starting to realize how the weather truly has an impact on my mood.
My mood seems pretty light today. Light like the wind, because my mind seems to wander peacefully.

My head feels lighter. Maybe it is my hair. I styled it a little messy. And I'm wearing my new leather boots. Which I have kept stored in my closet for too long. I'm feeling confident today.

I just finished my questions for my presentation, which is due in three hours. Just a bit before, I had a phone call from you. Stressful you sounded, but I thought sweet. Sweet that you'd call and was thinking of me. I wish I could alleviate much of your anxiety...

I should be nervous for my first ever university presentation right now, but strange as it seems, I am not.

I like this, solitude. Silence
I have been out a lot lately.
It's nice to be alone, and daydream.

UNTIL...the guy behind me just SNEEZED so frikin LOUD breaking me out of my mindless thoughts....scaring the CRAP out of me.

Life is this, as we made it to be

At another place, in another time
Landmark these thoughts at the back of my mind
Sweet winter breeze breathes, leaves me to cool
The night is young, I witnessed the moon
Songs of happiness sings inside my head
Beside the canal, I held on to myself,
Wishing for your hands

At another place, in another
I walk down these streets,
A colourful life
Passing by crowds and musical strings
Closing my eyes, wandering through time
Smiling to myself,
Your thoughts are with me.

Somewhere, someplace
Maybe at the same time
While I’m reading my books
Or dreaming my life away
In my room, roaming the streets,
Or sleeping through my whole day

Somewhere, someplace,
Maybe you’re asleep
,Or passing by faces, and pretty things
& thinking just like me
Life is this, as we made it to be

You’re miles and miles away
But you’re my sweetest part of the day
As I bookmark these things, and memories and places
I know I am not all alone
Maybe you know that I am there.