12:12AM: Normality & Loosening Up

Being stuck in bed all day has led me to do the inevitable and overthink. My mind is not as serious as people think it to be. It's filled with schedules and meal plans, things I want to do and places I want to see. Sometimes I start to drift off and think about kittens or corgis. So you won't get a lot of intellectual opinions from me unless we're debating on the cuteness of animals.

But come midnight, I start to actually analyze things within me, rather than brush it off. I'm tired of hiding the fact that I have another side of me that isn't as peppy as people see me as. And as much as I would love to just leave these things for my mind to digest and forget, I find it easier to write it all down, maybe to look back and laugh at it later on, or to realize how stupid I was then. Haha

So... These are just thoughts that make me realize that I don't know myself as much as I thought I did.

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I am afraid of growing up. I imagine myself carrying a bag of groceries to my car, struggling to open the door with my hands holding onto bags of safe food and my mind filled with the next thing to do once I get home. I sense normality in my life when I was supposed to be destined for something greater than being a shadow of any other person. I start to think of all the things I could have been if I bent the rules or did something for myself instead of let others dictate for me, most especially the thoughts in my head that did not and would never be something I would have done for myself.

I am an innocent girl, still the 2 year old with the same worried look. Never been kissed, never got drunk, never snuck out, never bent her parents' rules. I was like a leaf that did nothing but stay within the branches of my tree, only to inevitably fall with no direction and get crunched by heavy feet, like any other unfortunate brother beside me. What I'm saying is, there is only one ending for all of us, so why am I so afraid of slipping up once in a while? Why are the rules of my mind what control and stop me from doing what I truly want? I want to go out. I want to explore. I want to go on a coffee run at two in the morning with someone random and talk about how much traffic sucks, or how disgusting peanut butter on pepperoni pizza must be. I want to attend spoken poetry in a dimly lit bar, where I'm drinking beer or red wine while listening to anyone talk about how they think depression eats them up alive and causes them to only get up for nights like these. I want to enter the indie scene and wear a backless dress without caring, feeling the buzz someone holds my waist and talks about how great the song is and how we should dance. I want to go on a road trip and skip the worries that are to come once I get back home. I want to be able to tell stories to my parents and let them know that I am genuinely happy, that I am able to find balance in school, work, play. That I am able to eat without caring for the calorie content, with my hands looking fuller and my stomach looking slimmer as I choose to eat and exercise more for the sake of health and not vanity. I want to live a life less normal than what I expect it to be and be okay with it, because I know I deserve something better than just normal.