except the one to which you belong.
confinement of your aloneness
that does not bring you alive
You know how some people appear to be content on the surface but, in reality, are deeply unhappy? Consider me the opposite. On the surface, I am seemingly discontented by my circumstances but, in reality, am deeply and naturally happy. I know this because Haydee, my roommate in college, told me that I laugh in my sleep. Bewildered family members and skeptical boyfriends have since confirmed this. In college, my bookish habits landed me in libraries more often than bars (until I found a library-themed bar once, at which point I was conflicted). I juggled multiple jobs at a time, on top of overachieving in my classes. I had a talent for worrying about everything, a talent that both frustrated and alienated the people around me at times. Despite all this, a remote part of my soul yearned in earnest to laugh, and it let out at full force at night as I slept – to Haydee’s amusement.
The older I got, the deeper and deeper this part of me was buried. Believe it or not, I have a pretty darn good sense of humor. But after I graduated college, took on internships, and then eventually worked a full-time job, my natural silliness became layered with professional airs. I was growing up, so by design, I thought I had to act like a grown-up. Still, though, if you caught me feeling sleep deprived or after I’ve had a few glasses of champagne, you would witness me uttering nonsensical things between 15-minute intervals of giggling with myself without any sort of provocation.
Two months ago, I did something bat-shit crazy. In this struggling economy, I quit my full-time job. Why the heck would I do something like that, you ask? Because I choose happiness. I confess that I am a romantic, but a realistic one. I know that regardless of what life path you choose, struggling is inevitable. However, instead of choosing to struggle for something that makes me miserable, I choose to struggle for something that makes me happy. In that sense, I am choosing happiness for myself, even if it takes immense effort to get there.
This past year, I spent a lot of time gazing out of my office window daydreaming and scheming about playing music, recording a second album, and going on tour. In the past couple of months, I found the studio in which I will be recording my sophomore album. I’ve felt constantly inspired to write. And we are going on a musical tour of the Pacific Northwest in November. All of this has been a long time coming, but it has been an incredibly long and arduous journey laden with internal conflicts, bad timing, and a drought of creative energy. Finally, though, I feel like the stars have aligned once again, shifting the earth’s gravitation and mine toward the kind of happiness that lasts.