Stream

People are so strange. The way they think and talk and participate in life.

Most of the time I think I'd rather not even deal with them.

I am obviously not a person.

I have decided that I am taking a break from the whole human race. I'll be something else. Something less bothersome.

People as a large group irritate the ever living mess out of me. I have no patience for them.

People on an individual level though, I like those. I like to watch and listen. I like to hear their different thoughts and opinions. If I know the individual well enough then I offer my own thoughts. If those individuals find me agreeable then a friendship is formed.

Simple.

Not really.

Who ever said that any human relationship was ever simple? Hopefully no one, and if someone did then that poor imbecile may need a hug and a nap and a dose of reality.

So do I want to have people around or not? Do I want to develop relationships? Do I want to learn how to communicate with each different one?

Sure. Maybe. I don't know. I like certain aspects of every person I know. Then I start thinking about how ridiculous people can be. They get their feelings hurt. They have allergies to food you like. They say horrible things. Then I sit back. I try and put things in perspective. If I avoided people then I would be 10 kinds of miserable. I need people.

I need to have people talk to me, I need people to need me.

I feel like Nanny McPhee, "There is something you should understand about the way I work. When you need me but do not want me, then I must stay. When you want me but no longer need me, then I have to go. It's rather sad, really, but there it is."

My emotions get invested so deeply in those I am around, I think..."what would my emotions do if I didn't have people....my emotions would murder me". So it's selfish, and I'm ridiculous. I guess that I am just going to have to figure out some sort of balance with these people things.


I've never been good with balance. I'm very clumsy.

Helium

Sometimes I like to sit in the corner and think about how I ended up there.

I am doing that right now.

I am thinking about how exactly I ended up in this mauve colored room, sharing a living space with my younger sister.

I don't mind it.

I did, but I don't anymore.
Not for the moment anyway.

My life isn't special or unique. It could be considered boring by many people's standards. That's OK. I find it comical, really.

At the ripe old age of 18 I decided that I needed to move out of my parent's house. So I did.

Now, at the age of 22, with a college degree under my belt; I am back in my parent's house. Temporarily. Until I figure out what the heck I am supposed to be doing.

What am I supposed to be doing?

That is the question that I am always asking. All the way through college. All of the time. I always ask that stupid question. Guess what though...I still don't have the answer.

I know that small town Mississippi is not where I am supposed to stay. It could be, but I doubt it. If it isn't though, where then? I say TN because I love that state.

If I were to be very honest I would tell you that I always assumed I would be married and starting a family around this time in my life.
Barefoot and pregnant. Baking things. Knitting. That's all I really wanted. Society keeps frowning upon my grand plans though. Society keeps telling me that I am a woman, that I have a degree, that I should be doing something more with myself.

I just want to make people things. If I cannot have my happy little family then I want to make people things. I like doing that. I guess that's why I've always been happy in a coffee shop. Coffee makes people happy. I like making people happy. Therefore I like making people coffee. And baked goods. And if one more person informs me that I should be doing something bigger and better with my life, I probably won't say anything. However, when they have left my presence I will most likely scream.

God has me where He wants me. I don't know why He wants me here, but He does. I've been praying a lot about the people I am around and plans for the future. I've been praying about missions and about moving. Life makes me nervous when I start looking at the big picture. So I try and keep my focus on days and weeks, not months and years. Relationships are what make up my life. I know that isn't a new idea. My relationships with family and friends shape my everyday. My relationship with Christ should also be shaping my everyday, but I keep slipping. I keep getting so distracted. If I really want a healthy relationship with anyone I must keep in communication with them, so why have I slacked off? Because I am lazy. That's why. I need to fix this. I know I do.

So there it is. So many words, poorly placed together to offer some insight into the brain of Melissa Joy Duncan at 11pm. I feel like I am peddling backwards down a small hill.
Grow up.
Grow down.
Grow very round.
Be a kid.
Be mature.
Choices.
Life is all about choices.

Blink

There is a crack in my sister's window. I am sleeping right under it. It's December by the way.

I have lost my well laid out path, friends. I know it's still there, I've just lost it. I am in no great rush to find it again though (or that's what I am telling myself so I won't stress out).

Truthfully, I would like people to be proud of me. I would like them to think nice things, but it's really not about me. I am too disgustingly selfish. I need to snap out of this funk.

This may have been the craziest year of my life. That may be why I am so confused. Terrible and wonderful things happened. It's still proving to be crazy, I guess it likes how silly its' been. I hope this year is proud of itself because I sure still don't know what to think. I hope next year straightens up and it should be warned that I am expecting it to be a little more mature than its' predecessor.

Goodnight.

I hope I do not wake up with icicle hands and blue toes.

Absurd

Whoa

I should probably get rid of this blog, huh?

I mean, it was mainly created so I could be angsty about my University life, and I am through with it now.

It feels so weird.

Like really.

This is the first time in my life that I do not have some sort of school. I would like to say that I love it, I mean, I spent enough time complaining about it, but I just dunno how to feel.

What will I do?! Find a big kid job?? Who would hire me? Yeah, I don't know either.

Starting a new chapter y'all. Actually I feel like I am starting a new book....like my life is a series of books and I just finished up with that weird 2nd novel that I didn't know quite what to think about. The 3rd we all hope will be more interesting and exciting, but one never knows.

We'll see.

Twitchy

My Asian neighbors think I am insane.

I am supposed to be listening to this incredibly entertaining lecture on Sigmund Freud.

Instead I am updating my blog.

I am sure that Dr. McCarver is ok with that.

Y'all, I feel bad for him. He talks about his cats too much. He also really likes sweaters (no judgement there, I love them too), he likes to talk about his sweaters. He really likes speaking slowly. I want to ask him why, but I feel that he wouldn't consider it entirely relevant.

I am pretty sure that the few people who did show up for class are laughing at me because I am totally not paying attention. Whatevs, neither are they.

I am in a class, it's the next one I attend today. Modern Drama. It makes me want to audition for a play. However, today we are discussing Death of a Salesman. Not my faves.

I'm not really sure if I could memorize stuff anymore anyway. College has broken me. I miss theatre so badly.

I could start practicing my British accent and audition for one, but I feel that I probably really have lost my touch. Ah well, what can ya do?

Oh man, this is such a boring post. I am putting myself to sleep, and that is why I started writing it. "History and Systems in Psychology; the cure for all insomnia!"

Tonight

We are young.

Are we though?

Sure.

I won't question that anymore.

Ya know, potato soup always makes me think of my Grandmother. It makes me miss her so bad, but I love it.

I have had a series of mental and emotional breakdowns this week. Its' been embarrassing. I won't get anymore detailed, but I did have to quit one of my jobs.

I miss people. I miss places. I miss free time. I miss faces.

Hairy

Here I go. Typing words.

Ranting.

Completely mental.

Self pitying little jerk that I am.

You don't want to hear it.

It's irritating to have to put up with. I understand.

Oh, these complaints, they are mindless. They go on and on, with no end in site. Your eyes start to roll, your mind has already wandered. You contemplate when it will be over, but you know that silence is a fast fleeting dream at this point.

It's sad for you. Since when did friends stop to exist and blogs become a place to put your feelings on display? You want everyone to know just how crappy you are feeling, so you post it online because you can get your words out more clearly, and of course, more can read it.

Is that how insecure I am? That I need people to read my every thought? I mean, obviously I don't put my every thought out there. I haven't been killed yet, so it's pretty apparent I have kept some things to myself.

But really? Yeah, I guess it's true. Every time I have felt that people are ignoring me, or just not understanding the poorly formed words that fall out of my mouth I proceed to type it out and post it on here for everyone.

If you don't like it, then you don't have to read it. That's what I always say....or think. However, perhaps I should be more thoughtful with what I post.

Maybe I should include more entertaining and pithy dialogue. I could talk about the witty banter had over a game of chess and a hot cup of coffee from this past weekend. Except there was none (there was coffee, but when is there not coffee? And why would you want to hear about that? So of course I am talking about the witty banter over chess). I could talk about the latest silly, cute, totally stupid thing, my super hot boyfriend did. Except....all of that would be fabricated and puke worthy.

So what should I write about? I don't do poems. I try not to do sermons. I like speaking my mind. But perhaps people are tired of hearing it.

I really shouldn't be so stuck on myself. That is about the worst witness. Being a selfish little pig.

So I hereby say, I'm gonna work on that.

And my apologies.

I shall finish this post with a short tale.

This is the tale of the Sleeping Sister.

She slept, and slept, and slept.

This sleeping sister slept at nighttime, when all of the best people snooze.

She was one of the most magnificent sleepers you'd ever see.

Brilliant really.

There was only one trick to her slumbering (oh, you're clever, you knew there'd be a trick)...

That hitch in her sleeping was this....

during the day, when she was not sleeping she was a terrific talker.

Do you see where this is going?

So she took that terrific talking to bed with her, and combined it with her sleeping.

So whenever anyone would enter the room to admire her slumber, she would begin to speak.

At first people were amazed. Then they were confused. Then they just got down right annoyed.

For you see, she never made sense. She would speak of cats, and of baking. She would carry on conversations in great detail about the quickest way to rid yourself of a muscadine rash.

She hardly ever said anything useful, she just ranted and snored.

This sleeping, speaking sister was quite a mystery to all who surveyed her.

She still is.

There is no conclusion.