Ad 2:
2017-04-09 18:10:30 (UTC)

Uncertain Past

"All I Need" by Radiohead
[there are a lot of Radiohead songs that I don't like anymore because they're so saturated with emotion. But I really love this song. I think this is one of their best.]

I'm the next act
Waiting in the wings
I'm an animal
Trapped in your parked car
*I am all the days
That you choose to ignore*
I am a moth
Who just wants to share your light
I'm just an insect
Trying to get out of the night

April 9, 2017 Sunday 7:15 PM

I do this thing where I try not to remember things because I worry they'll change. I mean, I do this with good things. I also try to forget Bad Memories, but only because, y'know, they're bad. That's only natural.

With good memories, I will sometimes try to stuff 'em down because I feel like they'll kinda morph if I look at them too long. If I win a competition or a race or something, I can be happy but I can't relive the moment because otherwise I might not win again—even though I've already won.

This is partly because I have this feeling that I've changed. I'm no longer the person who won. Any achievement does not belong to me. It seems like a miracle that I get anything done. I can remember everything I did to prepare myself for tests and shit like that, but it still seems amazing that I did well in school. There are thousands of ways that things could've gone wrong, but somehow I was lucky enough to be "successful." Which doesn't feel like an achievement so much as a blessing????????

Listen, man, I ain't complaining. I'm just observing a habit of mine. Earlier, I was cleaning my room and I realized that if I hadn't googled college essays two weeks before college applications were due, then I wouldn't have rewritten my essay and I likely would not have been accepted into Brown. I mean, I know people say the essay doesn't carry THAT much weight, but for my application I think it did because 1) I was applying to Literary Arts and 2) my grades/extracurriculars are fine but they're nothing amazing in the Ivy League pool.

My old essay was pretty shitty. The one I ended up using is cheesy. But whatever, it worked.

Anyway, the whole point of this is that I started thinking about how easily I could've messed things up if I decided to watch Futurama instead of google essays, y'know? So I have to remind myself that while I COULD have messed things up, the reality is that I didn't. It's hard for me to believe it though. The past doesn't feel like something solid unless it's full of bad stuff (this can be partially attributed to my regular nightmares—they almost always have to do with people being disappointed in me, or past events occurring with negative outcomes whether or not that was the case in reality. And sometimes they're just me, flying around with bat wings, shooting convenience store customers/sudden crazed maniacs with a finger gun after smashing them in the crotch with a metal pipe).

The good stuff seems like pure luck! A total accident! Which they are (or is it "it is?" I can't tell if 'good stuff' is singular or plural what).

So, self. Let us be thankful for stuff. Let us be happy.
And now, let us do our laundry because we have school tomorrow.