personal, ramblings, thoughts

Jazz Bands and Pole Fitness

And here it happens again. After a lot of heated love-giving that had been going on around here, I completely neglected my relationship with my blog (and my only creative outlet for the time being) because I took it for granted and wanted to have some fun around. In fact, I neglected it almost as much as I have neglected myself.

Thinking about the past two and a half months puts me in a state of raw panic because I have absolutely no idea where all the 101,969 minutes went. Like seriously, no clue. Even my planner cannot keep up with the pace of the Earth spinning. I feel like there’s a cosmic conspiracy to speed up our revolution around the Sun because there has been so much $#%! going on around here that it feels kinda obliged to make more time pass by before the next catastrophe strikes. Or it just wants to see if the hideous Mexican wall will be visible from space. #whoknows

I’m mumbling. But actually, that is the point. I think I’m gonna be mumbling a lot more around here in the days to come because I set it as a little task. Honestly it is even in my agenda, I’m planning on doing it once a week. Meanwhile, I’ll share if I find something nice but I figured it’s sort of gloomy around here and I’m working on being all lovely and bubbly all the time. They told me it’s a lot easier like that.

You know when you reach a point where you realize you have done absolutely nothing for yourself? When you see that you have set a daily routine that not only it doesn’t serve you, but even shrinks you? When you finally see the people for who they are instead of who you want them to be, and understand they are sucking all your energy out of the last cell of your body? Here’s to hoping you don’t.

Anyway, imagine this coming all at once, like a crack in a floodgate finally giving in, tearing the wall in two and there’s this tsunami of emotions overwhelming you (and making you feel slightly paralyzed, a teeny tiny bit depressed, a bit of anxious and with a full-on panic attack in the middle of the gym). Basically, like having one of them body-builder dudes coming over to your treadmill, setting the speed to 20 and slapping you in the face while shouting at you that you’re falling over.

So after a crisis comes a revelation, or two actually. I broke it to my mom and my sister over lunch today and it went something like:

Me: “Okay, I decided what I’m going to do. I’m going to start singing.”

Mom (between bites): “You’re finally joining a choir? Okay.”

Me: “Nah ma, I’m gonna start a jazz band.”

Since I’ve never been particularly good at writing dialogues, I’m gonna cut it short – my mom choked on her salad and my sister stated she’s never going to have a conversation with me about life again because I hadn’t really got her point, and after my mom recuperated she was just quietly assessing my state of mind, I presume. Only after I told them it is either that or I’m gonna do pole fitness that they realized I have reached THE POINT. Truth be told they were tiptoeing around me all afternoon after that. Maybe I should tell them what is going on in my head more often.

The second time I felt free today was when I stopped at the gas station. The very nice man working there was approaching the car to help me fill the tank when I told him that I actually didn’t need any gas, and went in to buy a bar of chocolate and some ciggies. He looked at me oddly, and that was the moment it stroke me. Maybe I truly am odd. Maybe being odd is my thing. Zooey Deschanel has her bangs (and soon probably the world’s first all-vegan ukulele band), and Cobain preferred to dye his hair red with strawberry juice instead of whatever normal people usually dye their hair with.

All my life I had thought that trying to make people like me was one of my responsibilities as a human being while fitting in the norms of normal. I’d blame my mom for that, but it is always our parents we blame for anything we fuck up later in life. So no.

Today I say “Fuck it!” without apologizing that such a nice girl like me is swearing, because from now on I am going to be unapologetically me, solemnly swearing I’m up to no good. Whatever that means, I guess I will figure it out along the way.

Damn, mumbling feels good.


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