Mars, März, March
So, here we are, welcome March. I grew up speaking mostly french so when I was little I could never tell the different between “Mars”, March in french and “Mars”, in english, the planet. Growing up speaking different languages we often mix them all so, in my child brain I always associated Mars the month with Mars the planet. Also, when I was little my favorite color was orange, Mars, the planet is orange, coincidence?! Apparently it was very difficult to find little girl clothes in orange, so I always wore the same dress, even after sitting on a bench that said wet paint! Anyway, I’m rambling because March is my birth month. Typically, people LOVE their birthday. I’m not a big fan, not because of the age thing, I don’t care about getting older, per se, what gets to me is the reminder that a large chunk of time has gone by. And yet, I LOVE everyone else’s birthday. I’ve mentioned this to you all before but I have an issue with time, the whole thing, the entire concept. Ever since I noticed it, time. Ever since I noticed that everything has a clock that’s running out, I’ve been fully aware of it. So you can imagine that something, like a birthday, would remind me of this clock running out, that this year’s clock has run out. On one hand, this constant awareness of time pushes me to live in the moment, but as soon as I’m out of the moment I become even more aware. Like everything else, when I’m enjoying myself I’m oblivious to what could or will happen, but then something happens and snaps you back to reality and this reality of time. In french we say “le temps s'est écroulé” which directly translates to “time has collapsed”, that’s how time makes me feel, that when it’s over, THIS all of this might just collapse. March, March 5 of 2021, to be specific, will also be the 9th anniversary of my first brain injury. It’s not the fact that it happens that bothers me, it’s the fact that it’s been so long and I feel I’ve accomplished nothing since. Do you feel like this too? Comparing where you are now and what you’ve done since birth doesn’t seem fair, but comparing yourself to you, 9 years ago, seems like a fair comparison, no? What I haven’t made peace with yet, is where I thought I’d be now, 9 years ago. 9 years ago, I thought that I’d be an olympic athlete by now, and never somewhere more that a few months at a time. Instead, I’m not an athlete at all and I’ve moved a few times, I’ve met great people, and yet, on paper I don’t do anything really. I swear I’m not as miserable of a person as I make it seem, but I believe if someone were to translate every thought they had into words it might not come out all rainbows and sunshine. When I’m with people, I’m generally a happy person, albeit a little weird, but happy. It’s when I’m alone that I over analyze every fiber of my being and subconscious.
Do you over analyze yourself or just others? Or not at all?
What I find funny, is that I write all this stuff but I actually don’t like to talk about everything all the time, that’s exhausting! Yes, I like to have deep conversations, but I also enjoy talking about nothing, and no, I don’t always, I usually don’t, like to talk about my fucking feelings.