Hodgepodge of Carpe Diem

Scene: Maria is wearing a faded green T-shirt that fits snugly over her DD's, and green and blue-striped pajama pants that are loose. The metal shelves to her left are almost empty because she's donated a majority of her clothes. The faded sun is coming into her bedroom through the window at her back, and she sits on the green bedspread of her lumpy twin-sized bed.

V.O.
It's eight o'clock in the morning, Rob's helping my mom with breakfast, and I'm stuck on my piece about our anniversary. If I wrote in the first person, it would sound more like a blog entry. If I wrote in the ominous third person, it would sound pretentious, but it would be more likely to have the feeling I want. Third person it is.

[typing "A Rush of Love"]

A lot's been happening the past week, and I feel brand new. I wonder if it's possible to short circuit the person that you were in order to become the person that you are.


I mean, obviously
I know that
change takes time,
and nothing
happens
out of the blue.
But
what if
I jumped
Out of my window
and landed
on my feet
as somebody new?


Some people are lucky; they know instinctively what they want and work towards that goal. Me? I'm of a different type: I think too much, ask too many questions, and never settle for less than I'm owed. It takes me longer to get to my aim because I first have to settle on an aim. It takes me longer to fulfill a goal because I want so much, and my mind must first wrap around every component that I'm dealing with. And not to sound obnoxious, but if I'd been born a talentless, dumb, homely hunchback giant, maybe I wouldn't be that way; maybe if I had been born with less potential, I'd just make up my mind and try my damnedest to reach a specific goal.

But that would be too easy, and I've never been simple.

This past week, instead of continuing down my usual road of insecure decision-making, I stumbled on a kernel of humility which made me address every mistake I've ever made. And after internalizing the life lessons that I didn't want to face, I was no longer afraid. The usual fears - of myself, of failure, of success, of mediocrity - no longer applied to the person that I somehow became.

So I'm attempting to hold onto this newfound sense of wonder and identity and build on it as best as I can. Along the way, there will undoubtedly be moments of insecurity, but that's human and I accept my humanity.