Sleepless Dreaming

Up all night, unfulfilled and a quarter life crisis.

I am teetering on a seesaw of indecision and my childhood is sitting opposite of my maturity. My conscience is carelessly supervising the playground, smoking cigarettes on the picnic tables in the shade. It seems not to be calling me in from recess anytime soon. There is a game of tug of war happening on the lawn and responsibility is struggling to overcome heedlessness. Upon the bleachers sits my confidence, indolently overlooking the on-goings. Beneath the bleachers, my pride is hiding from the bullies of resentment and regret. Self destruction is egging on my dignity who is already dangling recklessly from the monkey bars. My dizzied intentions grasp tightly to the merry-go-round on a seemingly ceaseless spin. 

Apparently, my mind is a badly behaved class on recess from reality.

After recent retrospect, I’ve become overly conscious of how agitated this particular time of my life has been. I’ve always imagined that my twenties would be a time of grown-up yet youthful bliss�"to enjoy this new-found adulthood with passion; to take it by the reigns and assertively lead it to its place in the world; to believe in this person despite the deficiency of experience; to love her without regard to her imperfections. Instead, I am approaching a quarter of a century without a penny’s worth of an idea what to do with it, or how to merely enjoy it, in this so-called "time of my life". 

I know that I have a lot to be thankful for in this life. By no means do I think that I am some unfortunate soul. Regardless, I can’t help but contemplate the insanity of discontent that makes me want to sleep away my days and absurdly keeps me sleepless at night. I cannot seem to disconnect from the continual commotion, blaring from the amp, that's rattling my head. 

Coming into my twenties, I believed in the idea that a certain someone could make me happy; that a dream career could keep me content; that happiness was the result of love and success. And here I am, at this moment, without either of the two. I am pondering the reason of why it is that I thought that. Why, to be happy, must I have those things? And it dawns on me suddenly, as if it is some great revelation that I’d never thought of before, though I have, just not in such depth nor with motivation to put it into practice. Whether or not I have those things at this exact moment, if I can change my thoughts, I can attract those things that I desire in my life. Happiness does attract, after all. Smiles are contagious, indeed. And though my good manners keep me smiling at strangers, through the events of misfortune, inauthentic smiles can’t trick quite me into believing I’m happy. 

That's because happiness is more than smiles--it radiates from within a person. I’m always envious of those freaks of nature who seem to glow with contentment with themselves, yet I am also extremely uplifted and inspired by those joyous souls. Happiness is what it feels like to be loved, but I suppose the first step is to love myself, and in turn be happy, before I can attain…what it is I think I need to have… to be happy. I’m not sure I am ready for the fun or the playing to end, but I am certainly ready for my life to begin. I can’t keep overlooking the disobedience to my self or the disorder of my satisfaction. Life may be hard to face, but it's the only way to have one. It’s time for recess to end and I am finally blowing the whistle.