Thoughts on a Bridge

I've had millions of thoughts trapped in my head today, not that I've been counting. So here goes something. The tone and mood of this, I cannot explain. I truly am not depressed or any such thing, this simply escalated from my current dread of the cold which I feel has been following me everywhere I go. I started pulling in some metaphors to my life throughout, though I originally had no intentions to. It's not a poem, it's not a short story, it's not a soliloquy, I don't really know what it is other than simply my thoughts in a patchwork of something related to winter.

I guess, enjoy.

Thought's on a Bridge 

Living in the frigid cold is driving me insane, I'm quite sure of it. I will admit, I am foolish in my belief that depression is a choice. However it seems to be lately that maybe depression is simply a matter of perspective. For my perspective on life right now is cold and grim, as are my surroundings, as is my attitude.
No I am not depressed, I have not made the choice to be, but I am going mad. 

Maybe the goosebumps are to blame, forever scarred into my arms, clinging to me like a rain cloud over my head. Or maybe it's the burning of my ears, that lingers constantly, slowly falling victim to frostbite. Or it could be the patches of ice, scattered like mine's across campus, threatening me at every corner.

Whatever it may be, I can't bear it.

I've never looked up the definition of insanity, for I have been sure I am sane, but maybe the arctic air has put me in my place. The cold is cracking me. I'm ice and spring is approaching quickly. I'm a snowman and the drunks have come to bring me down. 

Am I weak to have fallen victim to the tundra? I am sorry to have frozen. Like the hand on an old victorian clock, I'm stuck.
I never wanted to lose, but like the frozen river edges, I can't go with the flow any longer. 

It's hard to think when you're mind is trapped in an ice box. 

It's hard to stay sane when you're mind is shaken, beaten, and bruised with insanity. 

Will you forgive me? This walk has been hard alone.
I forgot to bring you with. 

I've slept alone in this house long enough, furnace burnt out like we did, and I've been left here freezing. With the front door bleeding cold air, I can't help but think this is your fault. Couldn't you have fixed it? A new door, a new window or two?
I wished for a second chance to shield all that was good in this home from the bitter cold.
But no, It seeps from that front door, flee's this house. 

Wishing is for fools, as is sanity. Depression is weak, but then so am I. 

I don't wish to remain in this cold, I don't wish to carry on freezing. I can feel myself giving into the bitter chill, I can feel it breaking me down. But if there's a moment I want frozen in time, this isn't it. I won't let this be it. The cold can attack my body, but I won't let it freeze my mind, not in this state.

What am I thinking? I must put an end to this foolish thinking, the bitter cold is freezing me as I speak and time is short. So I leave you with this, my love. 

You can leave me frozen in this state, you can enclose my mind in this ice box if you must. But as the seasons change, so will I, and all of me you're bitterness has ruined will come back to life. I can feel an escape from this pain, I can see my spring garden blooming. So bring on the chill my love, freeze me in time. 

But look out next spring when I bloom, it'll be you're hell.





Sincerely,
Me. 

Why I Write

It's 1:20 am, so it's really no surprise I'm up writing.
I need a release. A moment to myself, to collect my thoughts.
And as I sit here, scrolling through pinterest's 'quotes' section, I've stumbled upon a quote I thought i'd share. It really struck me the second I read it.


"I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say."
-Flannery O'Connor


Lately, I've been jumping between majors in college, trying to decide what I want to do. I've discovered a love for english and writing, unlike any other. However, I've really struggled to understand if it's for me or what I can truly do with it in my life.

I meet people who hate writing college essays every day, just absolutely dread the thought of them. However I find myself getting lost in them. Papers are almost calming for me. Essays give me a chance to explain my reasoning, my thoughts, my feelings in my own way as if to change the mind of the professor or whoever may be reading it. As if to plead my case. To explain why I feel, this is right.
Coloring in a bubble could never do that for me.
Selecting true or false, has never been something i've enjoyed.
Exams, quizzes, anything with an A,B,C,D .. true or false answer, makes me feel trapped.
You are either right, or you are wrong, and that's it.
I've always hard a hard time with exams of this format. Because I second guess myself.
I circle one answer, but in my mind, I debate another.
I can't lay out my thoughts.

But not when it comes to writing. I waste no time questioning myself.. is this right.. is this wrong. I just end up with a product that depicts my thoughts clearly, because I translated them from my mind somehow on to this paper, and now it all is making sense to me and coming together. I can lay out my thoughts, look them over, revise them. I can grasp a understanding of what i'm thinking. And from there, I can answer a question with a product I'm proud of and believe in. I didn't have to chose some answer formulated by an examiner that may or may not make complete sense to me.
I'm formulating my answer, let me explain it to you.
I'm allowing the professor, reader, whoever to step into my mind for a second.
And that's really an astonishing thing to be able to do, to allow someone to get a glimpse of how you are envisioning things.

And this translates into my life when it comes to even writing things like this. Until about 17 minutes ago when I started writing this, I didn't know it would go this route. I didn't know why I enjoyed essays so much, but a quote set my mind going, and now thoughts are flowing out.

Give me a computer, give me a paper and a pencil, give me a chance, I'll let you see my mind. That's truly what writing is. An insight into the authors mind. Hell, and insight into my own mind.

I have a million thoughts a day, but until I put it into words on a computer, I don't realize what I really think. I don't realize what I really feel. Even speaking aloud, I get all jumbled up. There's things I don't want to say, things I can't vocalize, the fear of looking stupid. For me, speaking my feelings aloud just doesn't do me justice. But writing, allows me to hide, while also stepping out of the shadows. It's a strange concept, that might not make sense, but that's how I see it. Like I said, a glimpse into my mind.

But, maybe you're like me, thoughts flowing like crazy in your mind, but you just can't keep up. So many things you just don't know how to even say. I encourage you to try writing. You might write complete nonsense that jumps from thought to thought with no clear meaning. But hell, at least the thoughts are there written out for you, not simply floating around up there.

Because let me tell you, until 1:20 am tonight, I had no clue why I struggled so much with exams and loved essays so much. I didn't realize why things just made more sense when writing. But the minute I sat myself down and started to think about it, started to formulate these sentences, I started to figure it out.


Writing lets you explain yourself.
Writing lets you know how you feel.
You just don't know it until you start.



Sincerely,
Writing and Laughing away

As always.