Some things change, and others stay the same. I think that’s a quote from somewhere. Truth is, I’m sitting belting out Wicked like it’s nobody’s business, and reading the FBI’s Year in Review Part Two.
Guess that quote I think might be a quote’s true.
I’m pretty sure I’ve changed. So much. And I say “pretty sure” only because, I mean, how can I analyze myself and stay unbiased? Obviously I’m a little discombobulated when it comes to self-reflection.
But I’m writing again. I mean on paper. In a book. My sister got me a journal, one of those really really cool ones you see in Barnes and Noble with the leather and the strings that tie it together? It’s got some Italian dude’s manuscript on it. I’m not going to consider whether the music is legit or not because honestly it’s beautiful and I’m not that much of a music snob. I also promised myself to write whatever I want in it. It’s gotten pretty uncensored and disjointed and stream of consciousness, but if it helps me sort myself out even more, and streamline my focus so I can do what I’m here to do (whatever the hell that may be), then it doesn’t matter. No one’s going to read it, anyway. Or so I tell myself. Maybe when I’m dead or whatever some brave soul will crack it open and decode my crappy handwriting. But until then? It’s not exactly a diary and I’m not going to hide or safeguard it… but I refuse to censor myself. Whatever comes into my head goes through my pen to those pages.
Not that I totally censor myself here, or anything. I don’t. But there are some things that are more comfortable reflecting on in a hands-on, pen-to-paper method. Those thoughts become less available to me when I’m aware there are those who may read them.
But yeah. So I’ve also come to the conclusion that I’m not going to suck at school anymore. Being around everyone at Eastman makes me feel stupid. This makes me doubt my own capabilities (not that I’m a genius or anything). I know that my writing isn’t conventionally correct in many ways. There are issues in my sentence structure and grammar and anyone acknowledging that this is true knows what I’m talking about. But since I love reading and learning and music and thinking… I want to stop feeling inadequate every time I discover my own faults. I know I can achieve good things academically. It’s just intimidating being around people who are naturally good at it… more naturally good at it than I am. I know that in reality I am insignificant but I like to think that with the right discipline and strategy I’d be able to accomplish something worthwhile in any area of study, whether I’m automatically good at it or not.
That said, I have to go. I’ve got a letter to write and a CD to send to a certain German in Schwäbisch Hall.
And I know I didn’t really discuss the title of this post. I kind of wanted to, because it fits where I am right now in terms of mindset a little. Maybe another time. In any case it’s a line from Wicked’s “Dancing Through Life.”