Twenty Two!

Day Twenty Two:  Mad.

I am eating the biggest and most rewarding bowl of Fruit Loops there ever was and I plan on thoroughly enjoying it.  I’ve had kind of a silly day, off-and-on frustrations, having a hard time focusing on anything, and it all began with waking up and having that feeling.  Every university student knows it. Especially university students in this city right now (due to the freezing cold):  I do not want to get out of bed.  In hindsight I was being overdramatic, but it is a very hard thing to do in those dreary days.  I hope to sleep in some day in the future, but as of right now I don’t see it happening any time soon.

I don’t anticipate wanting to get out of bed for a while, and that’s because of this week’s events, and that’s because learning to deal with what I’m having to deal with is hard.  I’m a rock for a lot of people in my family right now, so I’m being strong for them, but in the comfort of my room while trying to finish reading the Privacy Policy for CNIB I break down.  And make fists, and essentially go Mad.  Capital M for Mad.  Mad in all senses.  The kind of Mad that makes you not want to get out of bed.  A Crippling with a capital C Mad, that has no words, no sense of control, and all kinds of unwanted things.  Involuntarilly I let go.

That’s important for me, and talking about it isn’t easy, and thinking about it is even worse.  I would venture to say my poetry is both suffering dramatically but becoming more real in a way, not that I have anything to share today…  Everything is just so raw, so sore, so hurt, that I don’t know how to make words of it yet. I can only make fists, and go Mad.  If that’s okay with you for now, then it’s fine with me.

As for now I’ll say this:  tomorrow is the last day of my twenty-nothingness, the last day for me to embark on some young-adult adventures, and I don’t mean to get all sentimental here, but I don’t want to spend the last moments of my young adult life living less than I would otherwise.  If I make fists tomorrow, I hope it’s for a fist bump, and that’s all.

Here’s to the best bowl of fruit loops in all the land.

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