Sunday, June 10, 2012

Flawed Soul

I'm not sure why sleep escapes me. We can clearly state that my mind never stops-- but that is normal. That's my life story. At any one moment I am pondering the existance of wool on sheep, the proper way to sew elastic, why fake eyelashes are too long for people with glasses, God and his role in life, why my kid sweats so much in his sleep and "dang, I'm hungry". It just never stops. There's always an idea, something I want to do... a dream or a short term goal; none of which I follow through to completion.

I'm a quitter.

It's not that I want to be a quitter, it's just that I never really find a way to finish what I start. I run a half assed photography business that really should be busier than it is. While I'm not the world's finest photographer and I have sub par equipment; my photography isn't bad. There's no reason I shouldn't have at least a session a month... but case in point, I run it half assed. I don't advertise like I should and because of it I sell myself short.

Not sold? Okay.. well.. homeschooling. I homeschooled my son this year, but we did a very unschooled type of method. I put a ton of money into creating the "perfect" school in our home only to not touch 96% of the stuff. We ended up just having lengthy conversations, extensive google searches, youtube marathons and a whole lotta discovery channel. I would say I failed, but he tested on grade level so we did alright... but.. true to form, it was half-assed.

Crafting. I have the ability to make quite a bit of stuff. I have the time to make quite a bit of stuff. I could have the world's most stocked etsy store if I actually tried. Do I?

Hmph... you be the judge.

I really am not the person I put myself out there to be. I try to be strong and brave, but really I'm just a little girl trapped in an almost 30-something body. I found myself unready for everything I have ever been thrown, yet somehow I manage to glamorize my way through it.

Marriage? Ha.. what a joke.
School? Been there done that.. 6 times. Do I have a degree? Nope. Do I have a crapload of loans? Yooou betcha.
Parenting? LOL. I've raised a spoiled little guy who just so happens to be the light of my life. I do my best to reverse anything he learned out of my sheer laziness to actually parent.. but who knows what will come of it.

Is everyone this insecure? You know what I wonder? I wonder if that lady hauling the 3 kids down the frozen food section of walmart checking everything off of her leather bound planner thinks she has it all together... or does she feel just as lost as I do. People that I meet and bond with- we bond over one thing or another, but never on a soul bonding kind of level.

Nobody REALLY knows me. REALLY. My mom knows that I never complete things. My kid knows that if he tells me he wants a drink when I'm doing something, by the time I'm done I will have forgotten so he may as well get it himself (he's 7, he's old enough to.. geez). My grandpa knows I have managed to screw up my life. My brother knows that I'm a running joke. My high school friends know that I'm the same person I used to be (wrong!). My internet friends know me through status messages. My gaming friends know the girl I was 6 years ago. My boyfriend knows everything I manage to do wrong and nothing I do right. My Church knows me E's mom... the one who always had to calm him down mid throwdown.

Who really knows me... nobody. Nobody here anyway. God knows my heart. He knows I'm a hopeless romantic somewhere down in there even though I've forgotten. I *really* hope that he knows that I desperately want to do good, yet always manage to fall short.

I really want to be a good person. I want to help people. I want to make a difference... but I also want people to know me for that. That's the problem I think. Until I do those things without a buried desire for acknowledgement... I'll never "really" be a good person.

I care about people. I empathize, probably more than the average person. My sentence structure sucks and I only wash my hair 1-2 times a week.

When people talk about me, my feelings get hurt.
When people love me, I smile.
I've got a gypsy spirit... I just want color and texture and a flirty, lyrical flow in everything that I do.
When I feel like my flawed character is in any way called out for what it is, I flip out. I scream, I yell-- I lash back.
Then I regret it... because that's not who I want to be. I say it's not who I am, but lets be honest... if it wasn't who I was, I wouldn't do it.

I just want to live, I want to make others smile and I want my child to walk in the ways of a good person. I want God at the head of our house. I want to change the world. I want to make things pretty and I want to sing like Christina Perri. I want a body like Beyonce, the heart of a saint and the swagger of the Biebs.

I'm not really asking all that much am I?

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