Airhead

I keep wondering, why is life so dandy right now? I'm getting closer to 8 hours of sleep than usual --every night, I'm going to all my classes, keeping up with friends, and having a blast doing it. I'm feeling a little less tired than usual and I've stopped drinking coffee by the pint (not going to lie, the first two days my coffee was replaced with migraines). My days are literally packed from the time I step out of my dorm till the moment my head hits the pillow. I get 30 min-1 hr breaks between a few classes or events/commitments, but honestly, I cannot buckle down in that amount to time to really do anything productive with my life, so I fill that time with the socializing, the keeping up with friends. That way I get little doses of friendship between the crazy, and I get to sleep soundly at night. And yet, when I crash at night, I don't feel drained or needy. I feel accomplished, I feel energized, I feel happy, and it feels like nothings is going to knock me down. I don't mean for that to sound like an "I'm invincible" kind of thing, but just that life is good right now, and the crap people are pulling around me is not going to mess with it. I feel comfortable. Comfortable. At ease.. comfortable. And then that word becomes uncomfortable. "Comfortable." Ehm, I don't know if I like the sound of it. Maybe I'll try something else, like "at peace with life," yeah. I can dig that.. but now that's uncomfortable. Why am I so comfortable?

Why am I comfortable right now? Why do I get to be comfortable? Why does that word feel so wrong? Maybe because I shouldn't be comfortable? But.. I mean, if I CAN be comfortable, why not? If I can juggle this life right now, why not? At the end of the day, I've let things slide, I've laughed, I've enjoyed my time, and I've made the best of my name-- I sure have made myself feel great. It's so easy.. it's so natural. Why would that be wrong? It's what I seem to do by instinct. At least.. it sings a louder song, and fills my ears with the beautiful lyrics "me.. happy happy me, wouldn't that be great.. for me?" It catches my attention, but something tugs lightly at my mind. "Him.. them... her.." but I've already decided the sounds of "me" are sounds sharper and stronger. So, I go for the song. I go for the easy, and I enjoy it, OH do I enjoy it! I love every minute of it, why wouldn't I? And soon enough the song in my head pours out of my mouth as well. "Me, oh me, did you just say me? I love me, don't you?" Or at least that's what echoes through my ears. And I'm disgusted, but it's so easy. It's so addictive. And I can't seem to stop.. is that right? People don't want to hear that though, but I try to yank them back. And some smile politely, some might even think I'm not blabbing about myself, but I know what this is about. I've decided that I matter more. I matter more than the people giving me crap, I matter more than whatever crap they're dealing with, I matter more than the name I've proclaimed, I matter more than you. And so I keep talking. I keep taking, and I take and take. Did I get tired of giving?

A leech. I guess that's what I'd call my "comfortable." I'm sucking from everything and everyone. I'm not giving anything.. to anyone. I've decided I matter too much, why give to the people pissing me off when I can just drop them and take from the people feeding my pride? So I decide that I'm in control of what I give and what I take. I've shut down all outward action--except for my mouth of course-- and I've upped the levels of intake. I've decided I don't need anything else. Me. Yeah, that sounds nice. I've got my friends-- the ones that make me look good, and the rest is under control. I can surround myself with all sorts of people and things that will huff and puff till my head's full, and I disregard anything or anyone that would need something from me-- anything that I have to work for. But I'm comfortable.

So maybe I rather be uncomfortable. Or maybe I know that this "comfortable" I feel right now is taking a bad toll on me. It's slowly getting its dirty claws on my heart, on my soul. He fought too long and bled too much for me to give in. So I have to fight this uncomfortable. I guess I'll start the fight. I'll fight the "me" ringing loud, I'll pay attention for the "Him.. them.. her" that leaves its faint echos. I'll lay down my crown made of plastic shiny crap that I bought at Hobby Lobby and I'll shut my mouth. I'll ask them about them. I'll try to fix what I've shattered. I will try to deal with the crap, to get to the person. I'll put aside my empty stories and listen for their stories. I'll minimize my mouth and max out my ears. Or at least that's the plan.. the theory for now.

I'll stop doing every thing in my day for me. It's about time I take part in things for the sake of others. It's about time I don't look at a picture of a starving child and go "oh, that's unfortunate.. listen to how I fed a starving child!" and I'll actually put my hand to the plow to do more than I talk about. It's about time I think of others not in relation to me, but to Him and to them.

And sometimes we get fed up and won't play along. And sometimes.. I won't fight.