Down the Rabbit Hole

The instrumental for Amerie’s song “Falling” would probably be ideal with this post. Or maybe not but this post makes me think of that song.

I’ve really slipped Down the Rabbit Hole this time! I tripped, bumped my head and *BOOM* just like that I wake up and I’m in the Twilight Zone.

Nothing

Looks

Familiar.

Some of the unfamiliar I like. Some of it makes me Extremely uncomfortable. Some things elicit both feelings at the same time.

It’s like, waking up to everything you ever wanted within arm’s reach but having this invisible force field (that you truly believe is there but really is only a figment of your imagination) that’s holding you back. Awkward. It’s even a little cuckoo.

I feel like a weirdo. And maybe I’m just in a nit-picking mood. Where do I begin?

Let’s start with blogging. At the root of blogging was my love for writing. I love writing. I loved to write. I haven’t written anything in a very long time. I used to write poems, songs, short stories anything inspiration hit with in the moment. I haven’t gone chasing inspiration in a long while. Don’t get me wrong inspiration has done it’s best to seduce me using familar elements but I don’t know the effects aren’t the same.

Performance. Writing isn’t the first thing I ever fell in love with. Music was the first thing I ever loved. Even before food. I remember the exact moment. It was in elementary school. I loved to sing. I would sing any chance I got. I loved the stage. And then I lost a little of that in high school. It got worse in college. But then I started performing my poetry. And I loved that too. No, the idea of getting on stage to perform anything scares the heebie jeebies out of me! Like who is this chick? It’s not even right. For example, this past Tuesday auditions were held for this super dope performance team? And did I audition? Of course…Not. I totally wigged out. And I could make excuses new state, new city, new environment but no, I just didn’t even think it until I knew I wasn’t goign to even try.  

Nail biting. I used to bite my nails to nubs. Maybe I’m exxagerating a bit there. Maybe I’m not. But my nails have been growing out. They were actually pretty long. But it seems I’m missing an essential nutrient because my nails are so brittle and they kept breaking. So last night, to even them out. I bit them. They’re certainly not nubs but I just don’t want that to become a habit again.

Talking to the dead. This is probably one of the worst things…But I’ve found myself wishing often to talk to some of the people in my life who have passed away. That wishful thinking is so strong that I’ve often wished while conversing with people who are alive and well that I was talking to the dead people instead of the live ones in front of me. How horrible is that? Quick. Don’t answer that. Rapid justification: In no way do I wish harm to the living…in my wishful thinking I certainly don’t wish that the living and the dead would trade places. I only wish to be talking to the dead. Crazy? Borderline. But is it true? Very.

Transitioning. Specifically going from relaxed to natural. I’ve stretched for 3-5 months before, but this is month 6 and man oh man. Some days I just want to cut it off. And I try to remember why I decided to do this in the first place. Some days I remember. Some days I don’t. I’m not big on weave but I do have one wig that I’m fond of that I’m actually wearing today. I’d like to get another one. Or maybe a sew-in. I’m one of those people that announces that I’m wearing a wig. I’m not trying to fool anybody.

Love & Men & Marriage. Love should be embraced. : sings : “With arms wide open…” And I think I’m ready to do that. I just changed my mind. On this topic. No comment. Moving on…

Insecurity. Atlanta is known for it’s Georgia Peaches. And I’m not talking about the fruit. I’m talking about gorgeous Southern Belles who love to have fun, get all dolled up, weave right, nails done, dress tight, flawless skin (well, flawless make-up and skin in pictures) and I’m like why am I here? I can’t compete. I’m not even interested in competing. I’m still such a tomboy at heart. Low maintenance everything. I want to be comfortable. If I wear make-up it’s on the lipstick or lipgloss and maybe a some eye shadow if I’m up for it. The very idea of going out anywhere here intimidates me. Ouch! That was so honest. “Do you want to go out?” No. “Hey a bunch of us are going…to you want to…” No. I feel like I’m in such an ugly duckling stage right now with all these transitions, from my hair to my skin (apparently I have ecxema and it flares up here). At the moment I don’t feel like I have much to offer. Ouch! That was honest too. I don’t feel insecure most days. I like what I see in the mirror and what I don’t like I’m tweaking. But as I tweak I really don’t want to be seen…at all. But that’s not really an option. My poor mother I’m sure she’s in distress that her daughter isn’t taking pride in herself. But that’s not the case. I do take care in the way I dress. I like nice things. Nice clothes, nice shoes, nice hair, but only when I can afford to. Why should I get anymore in debt to front like I’m flashy and fly? What’s wrong with being fly lowkey? 

This former lover of the stage suddenly prefers to play the background. I don’t want to be on the radar. And maybe insecurity is to blame for that.

But I’m not trying to be a Debbie downer here people. There’s a lot of good going on in my life. I have a job! That’s plenty good. And I really enjoy it. It’s tough some days but my co-workers are some of the best people around. I’m connecting with some really awesome people. People that I can call friend. We work together, work-out together, we hang out outside of work, we share the details of our lives…in short we’re doing life together! And it’s good.

And yes I know I skipped on the love topic so one quick word on the romantic-relationships scene. I find myself in a position where I’m able to date (whether one person or different people, I will not say) and it’s interesting to be a person of interest. Part of me wonders if my desire to keep quiet about who I will see or I will not see or who I am seeing or who I am not seeing is really selfish and a way to protect myself in case things don’t work out or a real desire to keep a potential serious relationship between only two people. The jury’s still out on that one. And I don’t know, I feel like that’s something  have to figure before I go forward full-steam ahead.

That’s the latest. Time to wake up my kiddies from their nap. I’m off.

Journey on pilgrims!

Much love and light to you all.

 

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One thought on “Down the Rabbit Hole”

  1. SNAP OUT OF IT CARA-MARIE PATRICE TAYLOR. I think that’s what Kaiya would say, so I had to say it. She (and the rest of us) would want you to get dolled up & go to Wal-mart to buy some lotion (stupid and random, right?) SO DO IT! You don’t have to compete, because you’re better than the pack.

    If you’re doubting yourself, you’re doubting GOD & HIS abilities in you.

    I know the feeling of not wanting to go out. I think that’s why we were always so up for it. Because NEITHER of us wanted to do it, so we did it together…I miss that. \

    IDK why you feel insecure, you’re like the coolest, most awesome person I’ve met..

    Like

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