Once there was a way...
Things continue to move downhill at alarming speeds. Maybe I spend too much time reflecting on the way things could have been, or the way things were once. Everday I continue to apply for jobs and everday I continue to hear nothing. I call and get the runaround. I send out emails in mass quantities and hear nothing. Why did I go to college?
I talked with my dad this morning to find out how things were going with him, and his truck is being repaired. He's retained the services of a lawyer to fight the charges against him, which I am faily certain he can have dismissed since he was well below the legal limit for alcohol. It looks like he'll be okay.
Meanwhile, April informed us yesterday that she is moving out on the 16th. While Silva is moving in to make up for her leaving, that leaves only Miranda and I on the lease. I've got 12 dollars in my pocket to last me until next Monday when I will probably get another 20 dollars for the week. I'm growing tired of not eating. I feel like I am dying. I have never seen rings under my eyes like they appear now, not even over the summer. I need to come up with about one thousand dollars in the next three weeks. Hmmmm. My dad's advice was not so helpful. He said I have only one choice now. Come back to Florida. I fucking hate it there. I hate Florida. Plus, I have all of Chris' stuff here and what would I do with that? I can't just leave it here. I'd have to do something with it. GOD DAMN IT! I'M NOT LEAVING CHICAGO AGAIN! FUCK!!
Really, maybe I do look back too much. I remember when I was still hopeful about the future, and I was in school with all that time to write creative little books. I remember that no one ever said, "When you get out of school, there won't be jobs." I feel like I'm now being robbed for the loan money that I borrowed to get educated. I think about how much I love writing, editing, and research and I can't imagine that there is no place for me anywhere. My friends have offered me this advice, "Go get any job you can." I know. I've taken this into account and continue to search everyday. It still doesn't change that I have to come up with one grand in three weeks.
You know, I look at the sky sometimes and it makes me so happy to see that unadulterated blue. My mind settles for a moment and it seems like everything in the world has its place, and I will surely find mine; but that is not how I feel most of the time. I just feel like a waste-- of air, of food, of space. I feel like a failure. I was once chastised for my decision to just up and move to a place I'd never been before, and I scoffed months later as I had found friends and a place to stay. Even though I was working crazy hours for pennies, I mocked everyone who said that I could not make it here. When I came back one month ago, I had a good job, and a bed, and the only thing in the world that I was looking forward to seeing was a pure white-sheet of snow. I wanted the world to freeze so that I could walk on it and make crunching noises. I swirled around maniacally in the first snowfall, and that was the happiest I have been since I've been back.
It feels like I built a castle in the middle of some tidal flats. This whole world that I envisioned for myself is just an illusion and now my hopes struggle, drowning inside the stones that I once placed so proudly-- my fortress underwater, once a strong home, now just a submersed grave. I remember when I was a child in New York, laying upstairs on the couch in the living room thinking about what I wanted to be when I grew up. I decided I either wanted to drive around big construction trucks or be a fireman. There was once wonder in this life.
Once there was a way to find it.
Once there was a way to set it free
and watch it fly.