I Find Out That I Can Carry A Tune

Today I had this weird realization that this blog is going to look a whole lot different if I ever get a boyfriend. 

Awkward. 

Anyway.

Thankfully, I have things to post about besides teenage girl problems. For example: tonight I sang in front of people and played the ukulele because the piano wasn't working. And guess what?

A few people actually liked it. No, seriously. 

I mean, I know I can carry a tune. I'm not one of those people that's all, "Oh, I can't sing. No. I mean, really. I don't have a good voice."...and then goes all Adele on everyone. No. 

But on the other hand, I'm (obviously) not Adele either. I mean, I'm decent. 

I guess. 

But not GREAT. Per say. I get that. It's okay.

But guys. When I finished my voice-cracking, chest-cold, erratic-strumming version of I'm Yours, walked back to my friends, and said, "Happy?" people were actually cheering a little. 

And that made me feel a)like they were just being polite, and then b)that maybe I actually wasn't half bad. 

So I'm allowing myself to pat myself on the shoulder for mentally kicking myself and getting the whole, first-time-singing-in-front-of-people thing out of the way. 

Phew. If only I could make myself do everything for the first time that way, I would be a lot bolder. 

 

Too Much For One Day

After tonight I want nothing more than to play my ukelele and piano and belt songs as if I have the angelic voices of the teenage girls with straightened hair and flowered dresses who sang at the Student Expression night tonight.

But then I realize it's 10:00, and my family is going to bed, and I have homework still to finish, and...
...oh yeah. I don't have their voices, either.

So that leaves me with my thoughts.

But that's a little too much of an interesting place to reside as of now. I have literally received so many mental messages today, I don't know what to do with them all.

Nicknames. Oh dear. Just when I thought I was done.
Tea. To keep or not to keep.
Hair. Just do what I want. I don't have time for this.
Irony.
Oh, the irony.
The cruel, heartbreaking, sitcom-worthy irony.
Distractions.
That don't work.

I'm still sticking with the fact that the Returned Memory is right.
Hesitantly.

But now there's also this whole new strangely similar puzzle piece to fit in. I don't know where it fits, or if it's supposed to go where I thought the other one went, or if it goes to a different puzzle altogether. I don't know.

I. Don't. Know. 

But I'm going to end on a lighthearted note and say to the first Wizard, you are indeed worthy of your title.

Maybe It's Time

Tonight I realized that it's no use.

I have no right to this. I can't compete.

I mean, let's be honest here. I can't even pretend to be competition for...
...well, anyone.

And to the Returned Memory: you're right, sadly.
I'm just going to force myself to figure something else out.

The only problem is...I don't know what else to do. I don't think I can figure something else out. If this isn't going to work....

...then I think I might just be done. For a good while, anyway.

I guess it'll get easier when I find a way to stop waiting for things that aren't coming.

Okay Wait A Second There

I told myself I was done blogging for the night. Ergh.

But listen, you.

Being happy all the time for only one reason...that was all very well and good.

But that's all gone downhill now, don't ya think?

I mean, yeah. In the moments, I was on top of the world.

But now? I can't look back on that.

Because I'll either miss it(which is no longer an option), or I'll regret it ever happening.

And I know what most people would say. Most of the hipster, tumblr, stereotypical world.

"Never regret something that once made you happy."

Don't fall for that.

Because there's a difference between just getting happiness for a little while and waiting for a better happiness. Holding out for something that's going to last longer than a breathmint.

When you look back on something that was just momentary, and know that you could have, should have held out for a better deal?

That's not something that's fun to look back on.

I'd have thought you would get that. At least, understand that for me.

Maybe not.

If you can look back with satisfaction, if you can smile and say that you're glad it all happened that way...

...then I'm glad it went downhill before it was too late.

Dear T.E.,

I promise to never cling to you like Velcro when you're around your other friends.

I promise to never spam you with annoying mail.

I promise to never flaunt our awesomeness with pictures of cartoon shapes every other day.

I promise to never, ever be a stereotypical teenage girl.

I promise to never overreact if you have a good time without me.


I promise to always be happy for you.


Even if that happiness means I'll never get to fulfill these promises.

Dear Possibly Lonely,

I see where you're coming from 
'cause I've been there myself

Dear Unfortunately Smudged,

Why do you keep coming back?

Despite my best efforts, you are fighting my current of logical consciousness and reappearing in a series of phantasmagorical scenes characterized by slow motion and wide eyes. My dream the other night was undoubtably what started it all. If you hadn't appeared there and done what you did without sufficient cause, I might have managed to put you out of my mind until the nervously approaching day.

But now I find that the heart-bumping nudge has come back in that five minute span when I know I'll have to throw away my milk carton in a certain trash can, or when I'm pretending to wait for Ryan Gosling to descend the staircase when in reality I know that my more intent focus is on the circle to my left.

It's maddening, being in the position I am. It allows for just enough realistic possibility in those dreamlike scenes to be slightly heartbreaking.

But what am I going to do, pick a new talent?