I left the house yesterday with a nice outfit on my back and glistening lip gloss on my lips, adorning an undefeated smile and holding 4, count them 4, copies of my resume in hand.
I was bound and determined to win them, really anyone, over with my expertise, skill and exuberant personality. I sached out of my front door in the early(ish) hours of the morning, head held high with the expectancy of a new beginning in the grasp of my fingertips.
And...
I failed.
I mean, I failed miserably, not even coming close to having the nerve to actually walk up to a stranger behind the counter of one of my favorite bookstores, let alone hand her a resume. I started off downtown because this, THIS, was my old stomping grounds! I belonged here with the masked scent of patchouli mixed with body odor, long hair, music and smiles, artistic creation upon every corner. This was my home away from home.
Or rather, it used to be.
Walking the streets of Downtown Asheville made me become Dylan's lyric of 'I used to be among the crowd you're in with'. It felt forced and unwelcome. And it seems I have lost the childish nerve that comes along in one's early twenties. I'm stuck between corporate business and the American Dream because I've been such a big part of both scenarios.
I'm lost in a world with no in between.
I used to be so independent and though I still lack the ability to ask for someone's help, I have succumbed to feeling lost within myself, unable to communicate well within the outside world. I find myself feeling so insecure and anxious; trapped between a line of people who seem to have it all figured out.
I much prefer to be at home, lost in a good book or TV show, allowing myself to be embraced by the characters and their fictional world.
I don't know what's real anymore.
The strength I summon up to be able to be a part of anything social is so miniscule and yet it takes every inch of nerve I somehow convince myself I have left, to simply walk out the door. Who is this creature I've become? What happened to the girl with the light in her eyes? Always full of hope and ready for whatever happened to be around the corner? Who is this somewhat broken person staring back at me in the mirror; this zombie slowly drifting further and further away, letting resentment take over?
Why do I feel like giving up? What's next in this never ending jig-saw puzzle of a mess?
I know. I won't give up because I'm not supposed to and because I know I'm just in the downward slope part of an uphill battle. I will push and bleed and hike up that path just as I've always done. I won't be defeated and everything will be fine.
It. Will. Be. Fine.
Right?
Right.
I was bound and determined to win them, really anyone, over with my expertise, skill and exuberant personality. I sached out of my front door in the early(ish) hours of the morning, head held high with the expectancy of a new beginning in the grasp of my fingertips.
And...
I failed.
I mean, I failed miserably, not even coming close to having the nerve to actually walk up to a stranger behind the counter of one of my favorite bookstores, let alone hand her a resume. I started off downtown because this, THIS, was my old stomping grounds! I belonged here with the masked scent of patchouli mixed with body odor, long hair, music and smiles, artistic creation upon every corner. This was my home away from home.
Or rather, it used to be.
Walking the streets of Downtown Asheville made me become Dylan's lyric of 'I used to be among the crowd you're in with'. It felt forced and unwelcome. And it seems I have lost the childish nerve that comes along in one's early twenties. I'm stuck between corporate business and the American Dream because I've been such a big part of both scenarios.
I'm lost in a world with no in between.
I used to be so independent and though I still lack the ability to ask for someone's help, I have succumbed to feeling lost within myself, unable to communicate well within the outside world. I find myself feeling so insecure and anxious; trapped between a line of people who seem to have it all figured out.
I much prefer to be at home, lost in a good book or TV show, allowing myself to be embraced by the characters and their fictional world.
I don't know what's real anymore.
The strength I summon up to be able to be a part of anything social is so miniscule and yet it takes every inch of nerve I somehow convince myself I have left, to simply walk out the door. Who is this creature I've become? What happened to the girl with the light in her eyes? Always full of hope and ready for whatever happened to be around the corner? Who is this somewhat broken person staring back at me in the mirror; this zombie slowly drifting further and further away, letting resentment take over?
Why do I feel like giving up? What's next in this never ending jig-saw puzzle of a mess?
I know. I won't give up because I'm not supposed to and because I know I'm just in the downward slope part of an uphill battle. I will push and bleed and hike up that path just as I've always done. I won't be defeated and everything will be fine.
It. Will. Be. Fine.
Right?
Right.
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