Frustration

hits me like a brick thrown
into this abyss that I am not supposed
to know about.  Help, I’m drowning
and no one seems to care.
I’ve heard about poems that
refer to this emotion like wheat
becoming this man’s being;
and I’m the one now laying there,
choking on something with substance.
I cannot escape those chestnut eyes and
those black waves tucked inside his hair.

I am frustrated in like with you.

Where do I Go From Here?

I have no idea where my life is going.

I’m in college again, and I’m missing my life back home, which was chaotic beauty.  I miss acting crazy, and I miss the fact that I cannot see all of my friends in this city.  I cannot have any freedom without an ID so that is off of my limits.

I have no idea where my life is going.

I am also wondering how to legally change my name to Alex.  That way, I can become comfortable with being agender.  I’m not sure what to do or where to start, or to come out to my family or not.  So, I’m scared.

So the big question is, “Where do I go from here?”

I go back to my tiny dorm room with a foreign exchange student.  I sit down, charge my phone, and I write.  I write, I write…. I write.

I write about my life and what my experiences are.  I write my complaints about my roommate skyping her family back in Vietnam, and I write about how I miss home.  And yet, I find joy in this solitude.  This is something that I’ve wanted: to be inspired by the trees and the lake and nature in and of itself…

I find pride.

I find pride in my agender-ness.  I find pride in liking who I like.  I find peace, for it is like a babbling brook that lulls people to sleep.

So where do I go from here?

I go…
I go, I go, I’m gone.

I run from my old self as if someone is chasing me away from her.  Mmm, her.  I used to like that pronoun.  Transforming Her into a powerful neutral: Them.   I am a deity among my thoughts, and my words are a creed pouring out of my inky pen.  I am the ruler of my domain.  I conquer all.

And then…

Nothing.

The page is filled and I feel emptied out.  Tyler Perry says that Oprah had uttered a secret: the writing process is cathartic.  Well, I’ve got another secret.  It is.

Where do I go from here?

I don’t know, but I have faith it is a journey full of self-love, joy, and peace.

Where Have I Been?

Okay, okay, so things have gotten a little out of hand.  My computer died on me, and I have not gotten over a family death.  I feel like my life has spiraled out of control.  Truth be told, I have this mental disorder I was diagnosed with, and it has been a living hell for me.  I also am wondering if I was misdiagnosed.

Overall, I will be back soon.  Possibly when school starts.

Until then, my badass batbutts, have a good rest of the summer.