I feel a bit wiped out. Things have been too chaotic in too short a period of time. You’re stunning and I’m stunned.
I find it impossible to organise my mind. I was trying and trying, but I think I tried for far too long and the whole thing lost momentum so I just let it run wild again. Now there are too many thoughts just spiralling around aimlessly, and I keep attempting to catch hold of one but I can never focus my attention enough and I end up spiralling around aimlessly with them. I can’t think straight.
If you’re looking to save me, then please help me manage my time better. Just don’t buy me a book on time management because I already have three of those and I’ve never found the time to read them.
I always get nervous about sharing my ideas. I daydream constantly and I think of things that would be so wonderful if I could actually hold them there in front of me but I’m a sucker for the fantasy so I never make a jump into doing anything that might bring the dream alive. I’m more air than fire. I don’t think it’s down to laziness, or not having the right opportunities. It’s fear. I’m scared. I was brought up to believe that my ideas were idiotic, that my plans would fail and that the dreams I had were impossible.
I disagree, but perhaps if I’d listened then I’d be happier right now.
It’s also other people in general that make me nervous. I need a go-between and a translator. I’ve said too much, and I’m not a mindreader. I read too much between the lines, but I fail to read the words actually being said. I anticipate one reaction, yet receive another. I deliberately strike with a coup de foudre just to see whether you light up but it goes splendidly unnoticed.
I once asked my grandad what his dream was when he was a kid. He couldn’t remember. I was distraught. But then I understood why I wasn’t encouraged to dream either. There are people in the world who just don’t – they have no airy thoughts or any kind of spark about them. They don’t believe that opportunities even exist, let alone that they can go and take them up. And children get told this, by parents who were also told this as children, and it goes on and on until we have many, many children growing up lacking in drive, ambition, creativity and imagination. They then become adults, who are allowed to vote and have children of their own.
Thankfully, some of us were somewhat immune to it. If you force us to retreat to darkened corners then all you’re doing is leaving us alone with our thoughts. Of course they’re going to grow into something big.
So why am I still so scared, even though I can kind of understand why I don’t need to be? Because a lot of horrible things were going on while I was cowering in the dark, and the only thing I had to block it all out were thoughts of how one day I would pluck that fucking crow.
I’m still waiting.
This won’t be archived with Shakespeare’s letters, but maybe one day some of our late night conversations will be pored over in a history lesson titled ‘Passion in the 2010s’, and essays will be written about how we fucked each other’s minds with equivocation.