Joy Unconfined

So I awoke, again, somewhere around 2 a.m. I’m not sure, maybe a bit later, surely not much.

I woke because I was frightened by what I was seeing.

What I was seeing was everything (my dream world, whatever it happened to be at the time) suddenly merged into amorphous shapes all squished together… and melting. In a very Dali-esque sort of way. Except there was no desert backdrop, no stark plains. It wasn’t just objects…

It was everything. Everything was melting and it was horrifying and I had to open my eyes. My heart was hammering. I was truly in a state of panic.

I’m missing something. It’s like a part of me has been taken away, a part that I never even got to know fully.

After which I stayed awake, and tortured myself (and likely someone else) with other thoughts and musings that really didn’t lead anywhere except to confirm my complete dissatisfaction with life due to my own inadequacy.

I’m so tired. I’m tired of wanting things, having them offered only to see them disappear.

I’m not sure what I did in a previous life to deserve to ALMOST reach potential and fulfillment but never quite manage, having them taken away or denied.

I may quit school, if I can get a passable full time job. I didn’t WANT to become a mindless automaton in the day to day grind… I wanted something more. But maybe I’m just not cut out for anything else. I’m not good enough to have more…

I’m not good enough for a lot of things, it turns out.

It’s so funny, when people compliment me. “You’re a good writer!” Yeah, and what has that ever accomplished for me? Being able to be marginally descriptive does not a novelist make. “You’re beautiful.” So much so that I get passed over when looks come into play. “You’re so smart.” That’s why I’m failing all my classes at the moment, and I’m a terrible conversationalist. “You’re such a great dancer.” This is why I don’t get gigs. At least… none that pay.

Maybe I should just face it. I’m a middle-aged woman trying to raise a kid… and according to her father I’m not even doing THAT right. Apparently my parenting choices aren’t good enough for him.

I’m the jack of all trades, master of none. I can learn things well enough to be passable… just enough to pull it off here and there… but I never master anything. I never truly excel. I’m smart, but not a genius. I’m pretty, but not beautiful. I can sing, but not well enough to be a soloist of any kind. I once played the piano, but never good enough for anything other than fooling around on it for fun. My dancing isn’t bad at all, but I lack training and technique, as well as that natural instinct to improvise. There are other things I could mention… that, you know… at which I’m just not all that bad… but neither am I exceptional. Not enough.

I’m just not good enough. Not when it counts. Not when it matters to me.

No wonder I wake up from seeing everything melting horrifically right in front of me. Maybe next time I’ll try not to wake up and I can just melt as well. I wonder what would come of that.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 28th, 2007 at 7:32 pm and is filed under miscellanea. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.