My Safe and Organized Chaos

My Christmas break didn't feel like a break. 
It felt more like an interlude, an in-between before the journey continues. 
I feel frustrated and overwhelmed, yet still eager. 
I feel frustrated because being grown up sucks. I didn't do nearly as much as I hoped to over this short break. My responsibilities have a way of calling me away from the things I intend to do. 
I feel overwhelmed because there is so much that seems to be in the balance in my life right now. There is so much that seems poised on the edge of certain chaos, one draft might make it fall. I feel almost helpless; like one walking a tightrope, steps wavering, balance unsettling. 
I was sorting through my things today. I have been meaning to do this all week but I kept getting called away by other responsibilities. Having to pack up my bedroom makes this journey frightfully real. It reminds me that time is running out and I am really leaving.
Those who know me know that, to the untrained eye, my bedroom looks a like clustered and chaotic mess. I'm not claiming that this is not true, yes my bedroom is clustered, but this is an organized sort of chaos. There are books and notebooks stacked on every surface. There are sketches and scribbles of maps on the walls. There are canvases in the corner and trinkets scattered about. 
Yet, those who know me also know that, I know where everything is in this chaotic mess. Everything in my room has its place. I know which book sits where and I know the story behind most every trinket and painting.
Yet, here I am. Packing up my things to make room for another who will soon be filling it with his own things; creating his own chaotic and organized mess and lining it with his own stories. 
I'm not leaving yet, but I am leaving soon. And this makes me feel uneasy.
My bedroom is, as it is to most I believe, my safe space. It is the place where my books surround me and my cat sleeps. It is where my desk is, the desk which I used to fancy could take me anywhere if only I sat down with a pencil in hand. It is the space where I know every corner, every trinket; where the things that are mine -the things that are a part of who I am, surround me.
Packing away these things makes my heart ache. Today when my Dad took down my ballet bar I felt like I was saying farewell to something; my childhood perhaps, but also to my safe place. 
It is a little less mine now and one day, frightfully soon, it will not be mine at all.
The things beyond this little safe place are uncertain. I am going out into the world. Not all at once, but ever so slowly. For the first time in my life failure is a real possibility. For the first time in my life it is not enough to just dream but I have to consider the real possibility of what I will do if I should fail. 
And, if I feel like I'm barely making it now, how much harder will it be when I am out on my own?
I sat down as I was packing up my things. I looked around at the boxes and the things that line the walls, and I found myself debating unpacking it all again just to take it all in one last time before it goes away.
My past is a little further behind me today; my future a lot closer than it was mere months ago. 
I am uncertain that I will make it. But it is not me that I have faith in. 
I feel frustrated and I feel overwhelmed, but I also feel eager because I know that my story, as all stories do, has an ending. 
And I can't wait to see how it ends. 
But it's not my story at all now, is it?
I stepped a little closer to the unknown today, and this time, the pencil is not in my hands. 

"I am the desinger of my own catastrophe."

~Unknown 

 

A Tribute

Recent events have inspired me to write a tribute to a brilliant man whom I wish I could have known better. 

He is a man to whom I feel indebted to. He is someone who inspires me and influences me greatly.

This man is my grandfather. 

I am writing this for him.

Dear Grand-Dad,

I wanted you to know that Mom tells me about you some times. I really love hearing stories about you. They always make my heart glow. 
I don't know if you ever saw anything of yourself in me, but I certainly see a lot of myself in you. 
Our love for books and for words is something we both share. 
I am in University now. I am studying English. 
I wanted you to know that thinking about you motivates me to keep going. You inspire me and I want so much to make you proud. 
I want to be a writer, just like you! I want to have a library of books, just like you! I admire you so much, I want to be just like you Grand-Dad! 
One day when we are both in heaven you and I will sit down and talk about books together. I can hardly wait!

Love, 

            Your Grand Daughter.

Die neusten ereignisse haben mich dazu inspiriert eine hommage an einen genialen mann zu schreiben, von dem ich wunschte, ich hatte ihn besser kennengelernt.
Er ist ein man dem ich viel verdanke. Er ist jemand der mich inspiriert und mich sehr beeinflusst. 
Dieser Mann ist mein Ur-Grosvater, Karl Goetz. 
Ich schreibe das fur ihn. 

Leibe Ur-Opa,

Ich wollte das du weist dass Mama mir manchmal von dir erzahlt. Ich hore gerne geschichten uber dich. Sie bringen immer mein herz zum strahlen.

Ich weis nicht ob du je etwas von dir in mir gesehen hast, aber ich sehe mir sicherheit viel von dir in mir. 
Unsere liebe zu buchern und zum geschriebenen wort ist etwas das wir beide teilen.

Ich bin jetzt in der Universitat. Ich studiere Englische Literatur.
Ich wollte das du weist dass an dich zu denken mich motiviert besser zu werden.
Du inspirierst mich und ich mochte dich stolz machen. 
Ich mochte schreiben, genau wie du! Ich mochte ein raum voller buecher haben, genau wie du!
Ich bewundere dich so sehr, ich will so sein wie du Ur-Opa.

Eines tages, wenn wir beide im himmel sind, werden du und ich uns zusammensetzen und uber bucher sprechen. Ich kann es kaum erwarten!

In Leibe, 

              Deine Enkelin.

More on Solitude

There seems to be a question that I am answering constantly as of late, and that is, why am I always alone?

Let me first say that, pointing out to someone who sits alone that they are alone is almost as pointless as asking them why exactly they are alone. 


And, quite frankly, I am tired of answering these questions; Cause seriously, it's not like I'm actually gonna tell you the real reason why I often sit alone.

In the spirit of my last post, it's not like I never get lonely, cause I do. All the time actually. But I prefer being lonely to... well to all the baggage that comes with people. I don't mean other peoples baggage, I mean my own. 

A part of me knows that it is ridiculous to let the past and all my own personal issues keep me away from people, but a much bigger part of me knows that, where I'm going, and what I'm doing, just needs to be done alone. I can't compromise for anyone. I can't open my life to anyone without first making room, and right now I don't have anything I can give up in order to make room for someone.  

I'm not saying I don't have room to make friends. Of course, I'm not living my days in complete solitude. I am also not talking exclusively about relationships either. I'm talking about getting close to people in general. I'm talking about committing to people; Opening up to people. 

When you open up to someone, when you commit to them, you almost always give them a piece of yourself. Opening up to people requires giving them a part of you. However small, when you give someone even a small particle of you, you lose that piece of yourself. You can't ask for it back once you've given it away. It doesn't work that way.

It's like when you give someone your trust; If that trust is broken it leaves a chip in the faith that you have in people now and anytime in the future. The more people mishandle your trust the less trust you have to give, it's that simple. Is it not that way with every aspect of ourselves? 

Is that not the way relationships work? They just don't work without sacrifice, without investment. Anything we give away in any relationship we've ever been in is a part of ourselves we risk never getting back.

And, honestly, right now, I don't think I have a single piece of myself that I am ready to give up. I can't lose any more of myself for fear of losing myself entirely. I feel incomplete so often lately that, turning to someone else to fill that void is more of a risk than a solace. 

I just can't risk that right now.  

I'd rather live in solitude.