six weeks

I’ve been talking about it but it doesn’t seem real? Still?

In any case, I leave South Africa in six weeks. Six short weeks, and then my room is no longer my room and my street is no longer my street. I have issues with comprehending time, and have done since I was 10, so my reaction to this isn’t shocking news. Not to me, not to anyone who know me, and definitely not to anyone on my street that has either seen or heard me having a “time isn’t real!!!!” breakdown on my balcony.

It’s not as if six weeks is a crazy short time, but we’re somehow nearing the end of June. I’m ageing in two? two and a half? weeks, and I haven’t even had time to freak out about 19 because TIME ISN’T REAL. I remember six weeks before a big party we threw for my father in 2013, when I had to draw up a massive calendar and fill in all of the upcoming events before the day of the party. I remember looking at that calendar on the day of the party and wondering how I possibly could have lived through all of those events and still feel like no time had passed since I made the calendar. It’s the same way I felt when high school was ending, and the last five days were staring me down and I just…I didn’t believe they were there. Not that I wasn’t aware that I was leaving high school, or that I was astonished by how quickly the five years had passed, but rather because I couldn’t believe that the time was gone and I felt like it wasn’t. It’s a stupid thing that makes no sense when I try to write it out, but it’s where I’m at with time.

It’s like backwards nostalgia. I long for the time for no reason other than it’s time, long before it’s passed. And when the time comes, I’m near incapable of living in the moment because I’m too busy begging for the time to stay  rather than the moment. When I tell people that I freak out about time, they ask me what it was about being 15 that I miss…and it’s nothing. I don’t miss being fifteen. But I miss the time. I so, so miss the time.

The next six weeks will be me grappling with the days that go by and probably laughing hysterically about it because crying takes more effort. Last week, for example, I skipped two days. Obviously, I lived Monday through Friday, but I went to bed on Monday and went by Tuesday and Wednesday in such a time-confused haze that when I woke up on Thursday, I was sure it was the day after Monday. I lost 48 hours. I don’t know where they went, but I lost them. It messed with me pretty badly, so I spent 40 minutes on my balcony laughing hysterically and yelling about how time isn’t real. Issa lot.

Have I lost my mind? Well, yes, but that’s alright. It always has been. Where would I be if I was my brain?

love and light,
shalom xo

waving through a window

ben platt won a tony the other night! it was incredible. he’s done so well this season. unrelated intros aside, hello. welcome back. welcome for the first time. i like musicals and apparently write about my new favourite during tony season. COOL.

dear evan hansen is an incredible musical. it’s about a kid, evan hansen, who draws very much into himself. he gets caught up in a lie that changes a lot and hurts a lot, and is just…a lot. here’s the trailer:

in one of the earliest songs in the musical, “waving through a window”, we learn about evan & his strategy for getting through. we learn about how saying something means nothing if nobody hears you. we learn about his experience as an outsider, and it hurts. it’s relatable – too much so. if you’ve never been an evan, you know an evan. it hurts.

step out, step out of the sun if you keep getting burned. step out, step out of the sun, because you’ve learned.  it’s strange how this lyric connected with me, but mostly because i do the exact opposite. who? self preservation?

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on a slightly darker note (as expected), there’s a part of the song during which evan talks about falling out of a tree. he broke is arm, but (SPOILER SORRY) he didn’t just fall from the tree. evan tries to kill himself by falling from a tree. he says:

when you’re falling in a forest                                     did i even make a sound
and there’s nobody around                                           did i even make a sound
do you ever really crash                                                it’s like i never made a sound
or even make a sound?                                                  will i ever make a sound?

it makes me question the nature of suffering. george berkeley famously asked, if a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around to hear it, does it still make a sound? if you’re suffering and nobody sees you, are you still suffering? the nature of suffering is isolating and lonely. it has the power to turn everything into insignificance. it’s sad. it’s like i never made a sound, will i ever make a sound?

evan asks, “will i ever be more than i’ve always been”? and i wonder the same about myself. is there more? we all start off thinking there is, but for some of us, that disappears as we grow. every sun doesn’t rise, and we’re left wondering what happened to us. nobody tells you where you went wrong.

i think yes. i think there’s more. i think that despite waving through a window and having nobody see you, receiving no response, seemingly not making a sound…i think that you will be found. if a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one around to hear it, it still makes a sound. that was my answer to berkeley’s question when i was 9, it was my answer during first year philosophy, and it’s my answer now.

you are not alone. if you fall, you will be found. you are not alone.

love and light,
shalom xo

l.i.f.e.g.o.e.s.o.n

as of march fifth, i am twenty for twenty applications and rejections. life goes on.

i committed to a camp and a week-long kid’s ministry  holiday club thing on sunday. life goes on.

the logistics of my moving continents in less than six months are terrifying and fuzzy. life goes on.


i spend silly amount of time thinking about songs and when i want them to play in my life. for example, i have a very specific vision of me moving into my shared apartment in new york city after i graduate from college, and playing “this is the beginning” by boy. i make little music videos about my life and about what i want my life to be in my head, and very near lose my mind when the song matches up perfectly. i’ve thought about the song i want playing if i’m a runaway bride, about the song i want playing when i figure out i can do what i love for a living, and about what i want to be listening to when i get on a plane to visit my mom.

despite my extravagant time-wasting song thoughts, finding a song that describes the present is hard because i spend most of my time in my head and not in the moment. i heard this song for the first time in 2012 but i’ve had it on repeat for the last four days. it makes for a lil shake up in my brain that i need.

as a person, i’m used to having high expectations and being disappointed, then trying to avoid that disappointment by having no expectations and somehow still being disappointed. i’m used to feeling like death and wanting to desperately step out of my skin for a day or two. i’m used to wondering how on earth i’m still here, and i guess it’s because life goes on.

life goes on.

i have really little money and just a little more sense, but i know i have heart. i have an awfully massive amount of heart, and if that’s what has kept me going my own way the same way life goes on in its own way, then that’s what it is. i have heart and a bunch of tired, and life goes on. right now, that’s all i know to be true. everything else is a big hazy mess of real & not real dissociation games and feeling like trash and not being physically able to fix it and feeling all of the anxiety in the world in agonising three minute bursts.

life goes on, i guess.


the other day, i talked to my future roommate about where we’re going to live this fall. life goes on.

every day, donald trump does something to incriminate his entire administration and inches closer and closer to impeachment. life goes on.

i’m not as sad as i used to be. these days, i can notice rapid cycling. l.i.f.e.g.o.e.s.o.n.

love and light
shalom xo

the kids aren’t alright

i’m feeling lowercase today, i think.

i haven’t been around here much lately. i actually turned my computer on for the fist time in about three weeks today. i’d love to tell you that i’ve been away planning things and now i’m back with an exciting series and that i have another posting schedule i won’t keep to, but that’s not so.

stuck in the jet wash
bad trip i couldn’t get off
and maybe i bit off more than i could chew
and overhead of the aqua blue

i’ve been going through some stuff in my head. i honestly don’t know how to say this to anyone without sounding absolutely mad but i haven’t felt like a whole person for the last month or so. it’s as if i’m  a plane on autopilot – only i’m also a passenger who’s been informed that i am, and i’m freaking out about it because somebody should be captaining this ship, but there’s nothing that i can do because i’m a bit of a helpless passenger.

i don’t know if i’m presenting myself very well.

i’ve had a lot that i’ve wanted to write about, but i’ve had the great misfortune of not being able to do almost anything. my body is fidgety while my mind is tired, or my mind is racing while my body is exhausted, so i’ve slept a maximum of four hours a night for the last month or so. it’s hard to be a person when you don’t feel like one, and when you feel like someone other than yourself when you do.

fall to your knees, bring on the rapture
blessed be the boys time can’t capture
on film or between the sheets
i always fall from your window to the pitch black streets

i feel very spacey. i’m still going to school and i’m taking notes in lectures and going to rehearsals and caring for all my friends, but it’s very alien. something is very off, and i know it, but nothing is fixing itself.

my friends are lovely. they’re full of advice and ‘alternative methods’ to help me sleep (i see you and i love you, xabs) and they remind me that i’m not eating when i should be. they ask about my medication and when i tell them that i feel like i’ve lost it, they listen. usually, they think i’ve lost it too, but they listen, and i love them for it. i overwhelm them a lot; i mother them. it’s a habit of mine – a selfish one, to some extent. i like to know that people are alright. it makes me feel like i, then, have the right to be fine, too. this is flawed in many ways, but they let me fuss over them, and for that, i’m ever grateful.

and in the end
i’d do it all again
i think you’re my best friend
don’t you know that the kids aren’t al-, kids aren’t alright

i talked to my sister about how i’ve been feeling earlier today. she asked what my plan was for the next couple of months, or at least before i go back to the doctor. well, i’ve thought of something of a plan while i’ve been writing this, and here it is:

my strength comes from loving. i will continue loving people as hard as i usually do. i’m going to try to keep doing the things that i always do, like work and school. i’m going to try to remember to eat, and i’ll try my best to sleep more. i’m not going to ignore the way i’ve been feeling, but i’m going to try and push on through it, rather than go around it.

this kid’s not alright, but she’ll pull it together somehow. it’s not all bad. i made two new friends today. i’m doing fine-ish.

when it rains it pours
stay thirsty like before
don’t you know that the kids aren’t al-, kids aren’t alright

love and light
shalom xo


featured image from risenmags.com

In Which I Consider Vision Boards and Their Effectiveness

Aside before we begin: somebody just went into my blog archives and read all my posts from when I was 15. I am cringing for them.

Do you believe in vision boards? Like, I know that you believe that they exist, because they exist, but do you believe that they work? That you can attract things into your life by…visualising them, I guess. It sounds like a lotta lotta mumbo jumbo, and I don’t know if I’m fully here for it, but it doesn’t hurt, right?

Vision boards are said to work on the law of attraction, which is “the name given to the maxim “like attracts like” which in New Thought philosophy is used to sum up the idea that by focusing on positive or negative thoughts a person brings positive or negative experiences into their life.”. Thanks, Wikipedia.

I don’t know if this is entirely true. I mean, Roald Dahl believed it to an extent, and I took most of his writings as gospel truth when I was younger:

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I still do, for the most part.

Anyway, the point is that I’ve made a vision board. Well, I’ve started it.The distinct lack of magazine-y things in my house has made it a little difficult, but it still looks pretty rad. I also made it on a day I skipped school. I haven’t put up a section regarding graduation or this degree yet. I probably should.

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Welcome to my vision board! There’s a lot of mess up here, but it’s meaningful mess. (Anyone catch my Hamilton reference?) What’s up here right now is all the things I’d like to be associated with, things I’d like to have, things I’d like to do…things that I’d like the future to bring. I seriously need to dedicate a corner to this degree.

I’m not sure what I’m aspiring to yet. I’m (1) aspiring to not being so crippled by the future or the idea of time, and I’m not too sure what else. Beyonce Knowles. (That’s a pun. Beyonce knows. Get it? I’m laughing at myself.)

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Do you really get what you give? Because I’m waiting for the truckload of all the positivity to explode on my forehead. For real. Not that I’m positive to receive positivity, but that it’d be nice to get some back. I don’t know.

If the New Radicals said it, it must be true.

Today is the coldest wintery day so far and I am loving it. I’m also about to try to convince my sister to drive me out to get Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Or any doughnuts. I’m just in need of doughnuts.

love and light,
shalom xo

Maybe, May.

“Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.”

We are already a week into May, and I am shell shocked and amazed and terrified because of it.

April brought the biggest heartbreak I have ever felt. I learned that I could actually cry for three straight days. I managed to not fail my first law test, and just pass my first English essay.  My best friend is moving 13,330 km away from me. She lives 20 km away from me now, and I last saw her at the beginning of April. My head is heavy and my body just aches. Things have been a lot.

 

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how perfectly angsty of me

The freshman fifteen has very quickly turned into the freshman “I am bad at spending money efficiently and also am constantly buying other people food so now I barely recognise my body”. Yes. I did join a gym, though. I joined an on-campus gym that’s going to have fourteen treadmills and hot showers. It’s opening in July, but I am very very excited. I’m also very lucky and #blessed to be able to have that to look forward to.
booo

It’s concerning that many teenagers drink to forget. 18 years is so little time in the grand scheme of things, but when it’s all you know, it’s the longest time. Why would you want to forget by means of ethanol based products?  Why not? Why am I thinking about this?

My headphones have been stolen. Again. Along with my cellphone charger. What is going on with me and losing stuff?

I went for a good two weeks without taking my medication because I was too anxious/busy to go pick it up at the pharmacy. I felt like an idiot. I’m doing better now, though. I’ve got my Wellbutrin and a big headache.

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One of my favourite people on the internet – Michelle from Piece of Caustic – wrote: “I think too much of my life has consisted of me eyeing the gap between me and others and wondering what to do with it.” I wish I would stop wondering. I wish I could hit myself in the face enough times for me to realise that I need to get my shit together and stop spending money like I have it. I need to realise that I can’t fill that gap with the utter bullshit my drunk heart spouts. It doesn’t tell the truth. It tells lies and hurts me, and everyone around. I need to find out what to do with that gap, or to get in it.

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Will May be the month I find out what the hell is going on? Probably not. I’m writing my first set of uni exams this month, and coming to terms with the fact that I’m going to be in Johannesburg for the next three years of my life. Being grounded is hard when you just want to go.

Maybe I’ll make sense of myself a little bit more this month.

Maybe May.

love and light
shalom xo


featured image from paper-leaf.com

UniversiTERRIFYINGLY STRESSFUL.

Today, I come to you as more than just a regularly exhausted-by-life Shalom. I come now, as a bone tired university student that has consumed about six pancakes too many.

Happy Shrove Tuesday! In honour of pancake Tuesday, here’s a video from SoulPancake and my pal Kid President. You should watch it. It’s important. (It’ll probably make you a little smilier.) We all need a pep talk.

In any case, I started formal classes yesterday! Monday was pretty relaxed, and my only lecture was Global Literature and Film. It was awesome. Today? Eh, could have been better. I met my philosophy lecturer and the venue that it takes place in, and man oh man did a girl crave some sleep. It is so dark! And perfect for sleep! But I love philosophy and I honestly care about critical thinking and metaphysics. Honestly. I’m just such a sleepy kitten. I’m lying. Kittens can’t go to college, unfortunately. The do go to high school, though! My old school literally bred crazy cat ladies. We were an all girls’ school with strange cats roaming the grounds.What a time to be alive.

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Actual footage of Shalom in a box. #naturalstate

My Media and Society lecture is really cool, and I’m looking forward to seeing the psychology behind the way that media and society interlink. I’m not excited about the readings. My course pack is thicker than my arm. (I do not have very thin arms at all.)

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I think that real love is when the Prof says “there is no required textbook for this course”. I almost cried with joy when I found out that two out of four of my classes this semester are textbook free. PRAISE THE LORD. AMEN. (I’m not outright asking, but if anyone does want to buy my ridiculously expensive intro to law books for me…)

I am unfortunately still without job, and still waiting to hear back from UBC (scholarship offers) and McGill (ANYTHING offers). I am capital v capital tired. V TIRED.

(I just got very distracted by the internet and free vouchers and questionable fanfiction.)

(Un)surprisingly, I have made zero new friends? Maybe it’s because I slouch. It’s not that I haven’t met new people – there are almost 7000 first years this year. I just haven’t had any conversations beyond, “Where is the politics department? Thanks!” and “How to I get to the 3rd floor of Senate House?”. It’s a little bit shitty, to be honest. I’m hoping that tomorrow will be better than today. I hate falling asleep in class.

It’s also Valentines day soon. I remember, in 8th grade, when some of the larny private schools would get the day off as a holiday, and the rest of us would all be at school pretending not to care.

SO MUCH IS HAPPENING AND I ALREADY HAVE ESSAYS DUE AND ONLINE QUIZZES AND NOTES TO TYPE OUT AND OMG????? THINGS ARE STRESS???? HOW TO UNIVERSITY???

love and light,
shalom xo

4 a.m. sunrise

Being up for the sunrise is different to getting up to see the sunrise. See, it’s 5:11 A.M where I live, and I’m yet to find sleep. This is a usual occurrence for me. It’s a pity; the sunrise seems to lose its brilliance when the only thing you have to offer to the awakening earth is your exhausted, eye-bagged self.SAM_2241.JPG

The sunrise is always changing. It starts as it does: a little dark and highlighted by the little lights and houses that mean nothing in the grand scheme of things, but everything to those that dwell in them. The orange gives this crazy kind of hope – dare I say misconception? – that the sun will come up, and the brilliant blue sky will present itself, and the day to come will unfold with the same kind of magic.

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The early bird catches the worm, and somebody zooms past the house front in an attempt to get to the train station before it’s crowded, or to get away from everything else that is crowded. The sky starts to brighten, and more people stir. The joggers come out, and the birds make more noise than they were making ten minutes ago.

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It’s an every day thing, the sunrise. I suppose our tininess is too. Every day, all of us – inconsequential people – wake up in our inconsequential houses to run our inconsequential errands until we die. Inconsequentially.

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I didn’t get to see the sunrise. There was no sunrise today. More than a sunrise, there was an overwhelming period of cloud cover with a dormant sun threatening ever so slightly to peek through. The cloud cover seemed to almost exactly mirror my mental state. 2015 has been a lot of grey.

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I feel quite strange today. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep over the last six months, maybe it’s the lack of medication, the weather, the hyper-awareness – I don’t know what this is. I know that I have three very distinct lines of feeling, though. One: I am terrified of everything and I want it all to stop, I want to stop being afraid, I want to be alone and at the same time, not. Two: I am more powerful than anyone could ever imagine. If you’re not scared of me, you should be. There is nothing that the world could throw at me that my brain hasn’t already. Not even death. Three: Nothing. I feel nothing. I am apathetic under a stained white shirt and jeans that used to make me feel something.

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I am not the teenage girl who gets up at 4 AM to see the sunrise. I am the girl who stands on a rooftop at 4 AM after being awake for longer than she can remember and sifts through the surrounding sounds while wrapped in her friend’s blanket.

It is not ideal. But, there have been, and will continue to be worse things that can and will happen at 4 A.M.

there are worse things than being awake at 4 am. another day will come, and the sunrise will come. eventually.

And all the kids cried out,
“Please stop, you’re scaring me”
I can’t help this awful energy
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me
Who is in control?

Control – HALSEY

Love and light,
shalom

 

one month later|connect

a pep talk for julyIn all honesty, I’m completely clueless how to go about writing this post. In actual fact, I’m not entirely sure about how this sentence will go; I’m just hoping it turns out okay by the end. Phew. Seems satisfactory.

I’ll be writing a post every day of July this ye– oh, wait: where have you heard that before? Yes. Here. Where NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo were both embarrassingly attempted by me. Well, I’ll be doing it. Again. Not the embarrassing part though. I thoroughly intend to finish!

This year’s theme is connect, as you can tell by the snazzy little badge I’ve snagged in the sidebar, and I’m pretty keen to find out what kind of trash (and hopefully, some non-trash) I’ll be spewing for a month. That…that there is a vivid image. Good job, Shalom.

ONTO THE FIRST POST! I haven’t updated this blog in almost exactly a month, and there are many reasons and excuses I could give. June is exam month in South Africa and every day from June 5th onward was a horrible practical joke. At least I hope it was. If it wasn’t, my physics and chemistry exams will let me know (THEY WENT HORRIBLY LIKE BURN THE REPORT CARD BEFORE YOUR MOTHER SEES IT HORRIBLY). Also, I’ve been going through the 7th Annual Birthday Existential Crisis, because I’m ageing soon.

“Gosh, Scoot, you’re so dramatic.”
Yes. Yes I am.

I am also very, very panicked about being older. (If you missed the 6th ABEC, you can catch yourself up here.) I tend to shrink into myself more than I do when I’m alone during this time of year (which is an awful lot, I’ll have you know), so connecting, in a word, becomes difficult. The ABEC forces me to find new ways to deal with things that I’m perfectly equipped to during any time of the year apart from the days between June 20th and July 10th.

I suppose that the extensive number of emails I’ve sent out to American universities (HELLO Bethel College and University of Iowa thank you for replying always except when you don’t :)) counts as some form of connecting- I haven’t failed completely at that.

Worry not friends – I ensure you (at least I hope to everything) that every July post will not be as anxiety ridden and angst filled as I currently am. I feel like I’ll come around. The thing about me, about the things I go through-about the depression and the anxiety and the eating and the school- is that I always get through. I don’t know how, but I do. And I like to think that I always will.

In the words of Luigi:Here we go!

yours, shalom

Exactly Sixteen Tireds

I’ve been so tired.

 

(if you liked the nebula thing that was the featured image, you can make your own here! super calming and super great.)

I try sometimes, but most times I can’t even be bothered. I wake up, I take a shower, I put on my (new and sassy) glasses, I go to school, my file falls off the dashboard on the way there, I get sad because I think of friends who aren’t friends anymore, I plaster on a smile, say ‘darling’ far too many times, take ‘too much’ (enough + prescribed) medication, have genuine laughs with lovely people, kiss said people too much, go to class, get out of class, give hugs, hope to go home, don’t go home, eat too much…

Look, it’s not an interesting schedule, but it’s mine. And at it’s tiring.

I’ve decided that if my tiredness could be quantified, it’d be done in tireds. And it’d be meticulously calculated by adding the years that I’ve been alive to the number of hours I’d ideally spend listening to good music and not crying/crying (dependent on the day), and then subtracted by the amount of time I’m doing school related things.

16+12-12
=16 tireds

I’m so tired, because with four tests a week and a bajillion things to do and a birthday in four months (OH MY ASDGSFSDG PANIC!WITHOUT THE DISCO) and the dangerous thoughts coming back and fricken’ prom in five months (actually, I don’t think I care about this?), I don’t know how to be less tired.

It’s no surprise that I’ve been reduced (?) to my truest form: a teary eyed sixteen year old girl, eating shortbread and avoiding reading because “Gatsby was supposed to be FUN not a fricken’ chore”.

I have no idea what this is.

I have no idea what I am.

The existential crisis has been rather intense, as of late.

love and light
?