I have made a point to fulfill my summer to the best of my ability. And I feel like in many ways I have succeeded and in many more I have failed. I have done so much in comparison to previous summers, but at the same time I would have liked to push my summer experience a little further by exploring new mediums or even practicing some of the trades I have already been taught. I shouldn’t complain and I shouldn’t be ungrateful for the things I have been influenced by. But I am. And I am dragging myself down by acting this way.
My mind has been filled with relationships past and present. Things that have gone wrong. The ways in which I have hurt other people or further more the way that they have hurt me by the constant attachment. I have realized that I am completely incapable of letting go of the past. Everyone I have ever met , a friend of any sort, has found a way to lodge themselves into my heart and head and keep me locked down and pinned to their existence. I find myself sleeping for longer periods of time so that I can see them in my dreams. But these dreams are not always a way of being happy. I will yell at them, hurt them, recall moments when we were together and make a continuous replay of the moments. My dreams are a montage of the events that we shared and stuck out the most. The worst part about these dreams is that I refuse to share them with anyone. And whenever I see something that reminds me of a moment in the dream, a reflection of the past, the replay starts all over again and it is like a reset to my emotions, attitude, and concern with whatever was going on before the memory was sparked.
I’m sure I just need to push all of these memories and feelings into my work. For so long I was this way and as soon as I was able to funnel these threads of the past into something worth exploring and something that intrigued me rather than depressed me was a success. But now that I have become so detached from everything that I want and need to be I have become a mess. A mess. Me. I don’t want this. I want the happiness that I felt for the many hours I would pour into the ceramics facility in the wee hours of the morning. I want the feeling of waking up with paint on my toes and fixative on my fingers.
I wish school would make its way back into my heart sooner than the start of another school year so that I feel as if I have made some accomplishment appointed within myself.