Sometimes I like to think of my life as a long string of films, where the beginning is slow and one is tempted to exit the theatre early - but one doesn't, and the last twenty minutes are where you get your fix of movie glory.
I have never been one to know the feeling of true adrenaline. I am sure I have been under the effect of a placebo many times - don't ask me to explain that, I don't know how. It's a metaphor. Mehhhhh.
Some call me mean - my mother, to be exact. She's pretty much the only one I tell the raw truth to, my real opinion on everything from my school problems to my low opinion of the couple in front of us at church who scratch each others' backs and growl in each others' ears. Others, on the other hand, see me as this sweet and safe little girl. How I wish I could change what they see. But I can't. It's my established image. I am the poster girl for normality and conscientousness. Or so I feel. When in reality, the alternate reality that I exist in outside of the walls of Chattahoochee High School, I am this strange young woman who questions everything, makes sarcastic remarks about everything she sees, and idolizes the fast life.
I have lost much in the process of role identification and the confusion it brings. Friends, my sense of religious connectedness, it all came at a price.
I dream of shedding safe. I want to experiment in life's givings and misgivings. I want to get to the root of things. I...
I don't really even know what's next for me. Ok, I'm going to college with the intention of filmmaking, but where is the guarantee? My real dream at the moment, is to be a pin-up model in some vintage-colored world in California and just be happy, glamorous, reveled.
Why does life have to be so linear? They want you to just do one thing after another - high school, prestigious college, work, work, work, work, divorce, retire, die.
No. No. No.
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