The truth. As feeble attempts come and go, no one is able to fulfill my wishes. My whims go unnoticed, and I stay in a corner, secluded, baffled as to why.
Blah. I don't feel like writing some sort of seemingly intelligent but really utter bullshit today, I want to write, well,
me. The life-ruining snow, what it should now be called, led me to cancel about half of my plans this winter break, while leaving some others still in the air. The quiet, accumulating drifts that usually fall are watery and windy this year, which means nothing else than a blizzard, to say the least. The "best" weather reporters on the local channel declared about "2 to 4 inches of snow to be expected," yet about 11 to 12 inches have already stacked up beside my bedroom window. I left my home early this afternoon, eager to embrace the season's first snowfall, yet was disappointed to find that our car could not exceed about twenty miles per hour on a county road.
Winter makes me want to run away from home. I'll do it, I really will. See if your weak arms can stop me. Your cautionary words will fly by me like dandelion seeds, whisked away by the gentle summer breeze. I have a plan, I do! I'll take the cheapest plane down to Timbuktu and live a happy life with an old hermit named Geraldine who owns a tea shop, and we'll gossip about taxes and the best cookie recipes, about men and the corruption that politics has to suffer these days. She'll take care of me, and I her.
Or maybe I'll go to Santorini in Greece, and work as a foreign student. Cleaning up hostels and restaurants and mildly starving on a day-to-day basis, I'll still be searching for my goal in life. Whatever it is, it will be better than here. I'll convince myself that.
Yet deep down, I know it won't be.
They say family is all you've got. But you know what, I have always wondered one thing. Who are the "they" that we always refer to when we speak of having morals and doing the norm? Are "they" a group of philosophers? Perhaps the most normal people, "they" are the ones who know all about living in regularity and sticking to the status quo. It has always bothered me a bit that we never really concluded who they are, for these people could be incredibly dimwitted.
After a stressful day surviving the heater in my house, I like to take my cold hands and press them to my eyes. It's a habit that I have. Oddly enough, it calms me. Sure, I look like an idiot who plays peek-a-boo with herself, but after a few seconds of pressing my eyelids, I open them to feel as if my sight is renewed. Yeah, psycho bullshit. Nobody ever really said I was normal.
Ahem, drumroll pleeease.
Rucha's 2011 Resolutions:
1. Fulfill your utmost potential in school
2. Learn to understand people for who they truly are
3. See life with a new, more refined, perspective
4. Be healthier
5. Do five kind things for someone...anyone
6. Smile more than three times a day, and mean each and every one
7. Come to a peaceful understanding with my parents
8. Aim high and be headstrong
9. Expect the best in people, even if they have let you down in the past
In a few short hours I will be well on my way into an exciting and invigorating self-project. It's called... are you ready? "Doing nothing." It's a cleansing process, and trust me, the only thing it will cleanse you of is your sense of living on the edge, and being anywhere near productive.
Oh, winter break. What have you done to me?
P.S.- I love perfection when words intermingle with each other in bittersweet...
simplicity.
"What is it about snowy days? The white hue; the warmth of one’s house; or is it the opaque magical beauty of a world as it is gradually painted over by a white brush?
So breathtaking. So utterly delicately breathtakingly perfect."
