We all love to write about ourselves; we hate being judged and labeled yet we have good hygeine and care about what we wear, where we go in life. If we didn’t want to be judged or labeled, we’d all walk around nude. Not that that would work better..
Well, the point is I think we are all hopelessly and gloriously lost. We write and we read and we watch and we film and we capture and we draw and we paint but we dont live. We breathe, but do we live?
I’ll find myself setting myself up. I read of situations in books that just sound phenomonly smart and classy and I want that too. So, here’s my dirty little secret – I am the writer and the main charater. I expect so much and hope for absolutely nothing.
There are days I look in the mirror and wonder not who is that, who have I become.. but who is that?
I’ll be there in class. And all the while I’m sitting there, the real me is floating above me. Slightly opague and see-through, like undeveloped film and murky water.
If you’re breathing are you living?