Adult World

I can apologize for the time I have been away. I can pull out the excuse book and rattle off the hundreds I could come up with. But honestly, thats a waste of fuckin time. The point is I’m back– for good? who knows, but I’m back for now.

I just got inspired to write so I may as well run with it. I just finished watching Adult World on Netflix as my best friend has sex in the room below me- what? I needed something to block out the stripping of innocence below by floor. So obviously, I picked a film about an aspiring poet who works at a porn shop and her journey on the broken road that most artists travel. Brilliant film and the ever inspiring Evan Peters is in it, so really you can’t go wrong. Also Emma Roberts, so for my American Horror Story fans, you will enjoy it. Honestly if you’re into off the beat indie films, you’ll like it. I am compiling a list of great little indie films and there is post about it soon to come your way.

Now lets cut the jargon and get to the point. I was inspired by this film. I am unsure if it was just the film itself or the film sparked the ember that has been stirring since the beginning of the year. This semester I am taking a great deal of creative courses- the kind that make you think more about the world and question life- not the kind that make you try to make a letter equal a number (which is complete and utter BULLSHIT if I do say so myself- obvi not a science/math kid). Creative thinking is one in its own and I do think that it is a lot harder than people think- ANYWAY back to the point- two of my classes have me creating art and another has me writing it. Between being in the arts building on campus for 10+ hours a week and spending another 8 hours a week writing stories from my past, I have come to the conclusion that I need to stop. I need to stop tucking away my inner brooding artist. I have pulled myself out of greek life to an extent and started liking country music and wearing cowboy boots.

I feel like I am losing myself bc I don’t know who to be anymore- Do I be the boho artist that creates shit and lives a wanderlust lifestyle? Do I become the country girl that has always been there since my dad first played me Tim McGraw? or do I be the overachieving basic sorority bitch with the dreams of leading greek life? I don’t know. I just saw the movie split and its about a guy with multiple personality disorder and I feel like sometimes I am there. I put on a front, or a type of person that best fits the others I am talking to or hanging out with. And I never feel like I am truly me? And I don’t know if that’s because it’s the easy way or the fact that I don’t know how to be all these people at the same time. I mean there are parts of my personality that carry through each of these “alter-egos”- ie my insesent use of the word fuck, my love of cheap pink moscato and the need to be liked by whoever I am talking to-but is that enough to string them all together? I don’t know.

Honestly I don’t know a lot, but what I have concluded is that we are all trying in one way or another. We are all trying to Jack Kerouac this thing we call life and praying that it turns out well enough that when we look back we don’t cringe as much. Anyway those are the thoughts from a mixed up 20 year old at midnight in the beginning of February.

Until next time, I’ll see you next time.

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