[ ].

Perhaps it is the lack of sleep, or perhaps it is the result of being much too alone over the course of what seemed like an extremely long weekend. Perhaps it is the (already) increasingly difficult struggle of having the person that means the most to me overseas for the summer. Perhaps it is because of the beautifully crafted, yet psychologically twisted manga I am currently reading (Yubisaki Milk Tea), or perhaps it is simply because my last few posts have been personal opinions or reviews on random media-related topics. Whatever the cause, I feel strangely compelled to be brutally honest about myself, and what I have been dealing with lately.

To start, because I know she will read this at some point, I am doing fine girl. I miss you and cannot wait for you to get home, but I will. I guess I just have alot on my mind today. As you know, I have my moody days, and I love you all the more for putting up with them.

I feel like I have out-grown my hometown.
To someone who has grown up in a large bustling city, this may not make alot of sense, but I assure you it is entirely truthful. Cedar Springs has grown beyond recognition since my days as a childhood. I would give a fuller layout of this town if I felt it were necessary, but as the town itself is not the point, I shall refrain. Where there used to be a couple fast food joints and a gas station now stand, among other things, no less than 6 fast food restaraunts of nearly any choice, and three gas stations right off of the highway. A Meijer has been added, and most recently, a Goodwill. Now these additions are all well and good, but there's more to it than that. My hometown, the only one I can remember, seems alien.
I lay most of the blame on being gone to East Lansing most of the year where I attend MSU during the school season, but it feels alien all the same. Being here for the summer, and more still, since the summer is just beginning, it's almost as if I were starting all over again. I have friends here, sure. I hang out with them when I'm home on weekends to do laundry and see the family. I have fun, don't get me wrong, but there is a distance between us. Now I would not be at all surprised if 99% of this was in my head, I have never been a socialite, and am actually quite adept at being socially awkward. But as it is, I feel stranded. It's as if I were Tom Hanks and I've been denied my Wilson. My best friend has stayed in town since high school working for his mom's diner, and the more power to him for it, but the distance is between us as well. We don't talk nearly as much as we used to, and he has (reasonably, I might add) increased his portfolio of frequent friends, often resulting in little time to hang out.
It's really quite the confusing mental struggle when it comes to him, actually. Sometimes I feel as if he is years behind me, putting off college to work for a couple years. Other times, however, I feel horribly inadequate. He has a stable job, pays his own insurance (something my mother still covers for me), and has an idea of how he plans to move ahead in life. When I think about it in these respects, I find myself lightyears behind.
As for visiting home, my family has never been the ideal 50's family. I can honestly say that I am not nearly attached to virtually anyone in it as I feel I should be. My mother moved out my junior year of high school, and I have never blamed her for it. Additionally, I do not ever go home to see the rest of them, I go home to save money on laundry. Similar to my best friend, I find myself greatly distanced from my brother who is rarely at home. He was my other best friend through all of elementary school, and while I get to hang out with him more than others merely because he lives at the same house, our similar interests and priorities have waivered somewhat. Sometimes my apathy towards relatives truely scares me. But that is largely what I am towards them. Apathetic. And I'm not really confident that will change.
I am told that I am smart.
I have been my whole life. It was never my goal, my desire. It simply was. All through elementary school my laziness was honed with years of practice in doing homework last second and taking very near literally every test without an ounce of study. It was expected of me to do well, and so I did. Nothing in my childhood strikes me as particularly important. There is nothing there that I am overly proud of. Now that I am in college, the field has changed somewhat, but my habits have not, and my grades show it. The worst part? I'm not bothered by it. At all. Sure, I do not enjoy scraping by when I in theory have the potential to be somewhere near the top. I just do not care enough to work at it. There is not, and has never been, any type of ambition in me to excel. I have no reasonable goal or passion in life that gets me motivated towards an end. Instead, I take a page out of Nike's slogan history and "just do it." I float through life doing what I need to to get by. Sometimes I hate myself for it, but I do nothing to change it either. I just keep hoping that one day I will find that "thing," that proverbial "thing" that every person is supposed to find in their life. The thing that they excel at, that they decide they could do their entire life, and always enjoy it. A university counselor once asked me what job, out of any in the world, I would choose if given the choice. I honestly answered "none." I have yet to find something I would truely enjoy doing. But I've settled for things my entire life, why stop now?
This brings up another character flaw I have found in myself. I am selfish. I have just complained about being distanced from my friends, but I will readily admit that I am rarely inspired to go out of my way to see them. I assume it all goes along with the socially awkwardness, but I'm also sure that the apathy plays a role here as well.
As you may have noticed, I have neglected to title this post, as I feel that there is not really a word to describe its contents. I considered things such as "Stripped." or "Me, Raw." but they don't quite fit the bill. My fears (and that is largely what these are) are more complex than a title, but the empty space, shackled by brackets, seems to be a fitting bit of imagery. The future is unknown, and has no words, while at the same time I am bound by my past, as empty as it may seem. It has shaped me to be what I am today. Similarily, I always follow my titles with a period. I like to think the period signifies the finality of my posts. It's my way of saying "this is me. this is my opinion, and im not holding anything back."
Even if it is about my fears.

I realize I may seem disjointed at times, and that I do not always paint the prettiest pictures (though I like to think that I am quite good at it when I try). I will not try and defend either of these, as that is me, and as I warned at the start of this blog, I am what you are going to get.
Let's just say that I'm a work in progress.