Perhaps inherently, I'm terrified of change.
It's that part of the school year where challenging myself to see how much I can put off until the due date arrives has become a regular task. I am seriously considering the warm weather to be a symptom of my overt procrastination.
I think back to the days when I played hooky in the remaining months of high school. I'd take the car down to the shoreline and stare out into the open expanse of the incoming tide, or swirl a cup of coffee at my favorite café. Why wasn't I able to face the end of a chapter? What was I trying to do, or prove, rather, in not doing what I was supposed to do?
I'm facing those same sensations now, of a not-wanting rather than the headstrong and determined outlook of the first few months of the semester. Need to train the mind to think this new warmth creates energy, it doesn't destroy it.
I think I know so much more than I actually do. And it's not a hurt I feel; it's a slow, bellowing pain that surfaces itself until it's red hot and blaring, reminding me of past that I hated. I dwell and dwell until my mind is swollen, and nothing but endorphins or socializing can take it away.
I need new memories.
