Everything is uprooting again.
This year is ending in a month.
My student Visa is expiring in 3 months (and so are my bank cards).
I may or may not be commencing Honours year.
I’m graduating in two weeks.
I’m going for my first job-workshop training thing in two days.
Certain people are coming and might be going in my life.
My exam results are coming out tomorrow.
I’m not sure how to deal with everything.
I like the concept of change, but to be honest, I hate the transitioning.
The in-between. The painful uprooting. The moments of panicked breathlessness.
It’s disorientating and uncomfortable and everything is going by in a blur. Not the dreamy, lovely kind. The sort of blur where the world is shape-shifting, tectonic plates folding in itself, and you’re losing footing one minute and gasping for air the next, and then you’re back in a stark white desert, rebuilding everything from scratch.
When I wake up from this dream, where will I find myself?
I’m emotional tonight. I want to be held, and to be told that everything is going to be alright. But will it be, really?
Sometimes I don’t trust how things will just “work out” for me, because I’m not sure if I’m the sort of lucky individual where things just “work out.”
But for what it’s worth, I hope change happens anyway. Change is painful. Change is uncomfortable. But change is necessary.
I remember what it was like, in a period of my life, where everything seemed as if it was stagnated forever, in an endless spiral of frustration. Life wasn’t moving. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t know what to do, about the fact that I didn’t know where I was going. Every morning I woke up and my day wasted away, bit by bit, until a year had gone by and I realised I was still standing at exactly the same spot. It was the most sickeningly wasteful feeling. It was like watching my youth harden over, and then decay, until all I had of myself was a cracked, stuck hollow of a person. All because I was too afraid to move.
If my world collapses on itself, then let it end in beautiful ruin. If the earth opens up beneath my feet, then let me fall, hurtling and breathless through the universe. If I am to tear everything down again and start from scratch, then let me be unravelled into my rebirth.
Turbulence. High possibility of crash. Where will I go next?