Blogging it out

I can’t shake this feeling that the more I learn the less I know. This is unsettling. I can’t figure people out. Maybe I am a misanthrope. I’ve said this before, I think. I’m repeating myself. You’ve already heard me/this. Someone recently said to me that there is nothing more interesting than people--as in humans--as a subject. More interesting than like, science, she said. I think I agree. I was never really all that good at understanding science. Too bad.

I just walk around breathing lies and shirking met glances. Dreading the possibility of engagement and craving it so acutely. Look me in the eyes, look me in the heart. Take my best and my worst and all the in between. Give me your best and your worst and all the in between.

I am overwhelmed with uneasiness today and don’t even know why. Well, maybe I do know. Too much air and not enough. Both. The contradiction is riddling. I’m trapped by the kind of indecision that arises from too much possibility. And here I am, spinning circles, holding my breath and gasping.

Life is too much for me, maybe. I can’t keep up. I can see it and feel it sprinting out in front of me, and it exasperates and exhausts me to keep up and stay within reach. Somehow I manage to, though the baton it reaches back to pass me always remains just beyond my grasp. Sometimes my fingertips graze it but then I’ll fall an arm’s length back. And no matter the distance, life’s leading me around the track instead of the other way around.

God, I just want to get off the track and run through the woods and feel the sting of the branches as they scrape my bare cheeks and arms. I want to wipe my eyes and touch my lips to my cuts and taste my salty blood and tears. And when I reach the clearing I’ll rest my hands on my knees and breathe out all the staleness I’ve been holding in and suck in what surrounds me and revel in the feeling of feeling my chest rising, falling, and my heart pulsing, pumping, as they’ve never before.

There’s just so much and I wonder if I’m succeeding at any of it. Sometimes I’m inspired by all there is to know and learn and absorb and experience and breathe in and see and feel and read and watch. And sometimes I’m so saddened and frustrated and confused because I’ll never be able to know and learn and absorb and experience and breathe in and see and feel and read and watch all of it; and I’m endlessly disappointed in this inability.