Journal, Diary, & Blogging / Quarter Life Crisis

Another day is here and I don’t really know where to go or what to do. It’s just…here.

Better than most, yet so far behind the rest is how I feel every day. I work and I work and I work some more. It’s not that I don’t see results. It’s that I see no end.

“Could you spare some change for gas? I need to get myself away from this place!” That’s how my favorite part of Smashmouth’s song “All Star” goes. Ha! I smile every time I hear it. Who doesn’t need to get away from this place?

Depressed isn’t the word. No. I’m just over worked and under paid…EXTREMELY under paid.

Either I quit and feel like a loser or I stick it out, no matter how hard it gets, and know that I did something amazing. I’ll take something amazing for 600, Alex.

Forget everyone who told you that you couldn’t. I have. Forget everything that got in your way and slowed you down. I have. Nothing of that sort matters anymore. It’s just you and your dreams.

Giving in is what they expect you to do. It’s what they want you to do, because face it, the world is full of bastards who don’t want to see you succeed.

Have you ever met anyone who did? I mean REALLY cared. I did once and it felt good. Good like those Yoplait yogurt commercials good. Good like cold Mountain Dew in the morning good. Good like getting an A on a paper you should have gotten a C on good. Good like Eve being tempted by the snake good.

I can resist everything but temptation. Everything in this world can pass me by and I would not move from my seat. That is until temptation came along. But then again…can you really “fall into temptation” with something that you didn’t want in the first place? It’s like this. Say I wake up every morning telling the world that I don’t need a boyfriend; I’m fine without one and I actually believe the bullshit on the surface. Then one day – there’s always that one day – this guy comes along and he knocks me off my feet. I mean REALLY knocks me off my feet. What then? I’m tempted to fall for him, and in most cases I will; just to end up with a broken heart again and go back to “fighting the temptation” of a boyfriend. I guess I can’t resist temptation until temptation comes along unless I don’t want what is being tempted in front of my eye, you know?

Just in case you were wondering, no I’m not crazy. Well…maybe I am. I can never tell now a day. It’s either I’m calm and collected or I’m crying my eyes out from anger. Isn’t that called bipolar?

Knees hit the floor and I’m cussing the world out for knocking me down. I’ve been here too many times before. I’m only nineteen! Why is life so hard now?!

Let me just say I think I’m having a quarter life crisis. Only I don’t have the money for a sports car and if I got a boyfriend half my age I’d be considered a pedophile.

Making things happen and not being able to control what happens are at different ends of the spectrum. You can make anything happen but you can’t control what happens. You know?

No. I don’t suppose you do. That’s fine. Not many people have understood me, so it would be no surprise you didn’t. If you do understand that’s fine too.

Only I truly understand me, though. That’s why it’s ME, myself, and I!

Perceptions are what this society is based off of, though. How you come off to the world is who everyone will expect you to be. Then next thing you know you’ve become someone you never wanted to be.

Quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck. I tried being what I showed the world and it back fired. It back fired BAD. I ended up having a mental breakdown in middle school. Fucking middle school! I woke up in the middle of the night cussing, crying, beating the shit out of my legs, hoping they would bruise. I did it because I was fat. I mean 5’4’’ 185 lbs fat and being that fat in eighth grade is not fun. What middle school kid fucking beats her legs hoping they would bruise just because she was fat?! That’s fucked up right there. I never told anyone about it and now here I am at the age of nineteen having a quarter life crises and still fat. Funny how things work out like that, isn’t it?

Rather than tell someone how I feel, I’d rather bottle it all up. It doesn’t make sense I know. However, I’ve never felt like there was anyone to understand.

“Something’s gotta give.” I always hated that cliché. That and “Everything happens for a reason.” Well no shit everything happens for a reason! What’s the point of it happening then, but if you think something’s going to give you’ll be sadly mistaken when you find out it won’t. Things will “give” when you make them. YOUR life is in YOUR hands.

Time and time again I wonder how I can change things. Can I be less of a bitch? Can I be more optimistic? I can and probably could, but sometimes life is more fun when I’m acting stupid and complaining about everything going wrong. Sometimes a girl just needs a little pity.

Under the hard exterior of me, I really am nice. I do enjoy being around other people…for five minutes out of that day.

Very nearly everyone wants someone else to be there…for whatever reason. Be it validation, destruction, companionship, sex. It’s whatever.
When it comes down to it, though, it’s all about the story you want to tell and how you want the world to remember you. You can produce bullshit and be okay with it. Just like you can leave the world with a bullshit image of you. But, honestly, is that what you really want? Wouldn’t you much rather want to write the next great American novel and leave the world a legend than to die a two-bit, no talent writer? I would or at least I use to.

X-ed out of the scene is something I never wanted, but it happened. I always asked myself why it seemed no one would give me a chance. I came up with it was because I’m young.
Young and naïve always seem to go hand in hand. You can’t ever find wisdom in youth because the youth carry no wisdom. If that’s the case, when does the wisdom kick in? 30? 40? 50? 60? When exactly can a wise elder be considered a wise elder?

Zed. Z. Omega. The end. Everything has an end and things change because the only thing certain in this world is change (another cliché that pisses me off.) Quarter of a life is enough time to screw you for the other three…that won’t change.

You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.