Saturday, June 25, 2011

Passing Through

Location: Columbia, MO

Time: 2:45 p.m.
Listening to: Rolling In On A Burning Tire by The Dead Weather

My twenty-seventh day in Missouri. I woke up today feeling rather drained. It was the second night of binge drinking in a row, and even though I'm not hungover, I still feel as if the energy has been sucked out of me. It could possibly be all the alcohol I've consumed this past week, or maybe the packs upon packs of cigarettes I smoke. I guess the reasoning doesn't really matter. I've been awake for about an hour now. Other than taking my sister to her car and dropping my friend off at his house, I haven't done anything really exciting today. For the past twenty minutes, I've been listening to my sister talk about her life. I don't mind. I find it rather enjoyable. Since leaving Florida, I don't really have my own life here. It's not like I can talk about myself. Nothing happens to me here that people don't already know happened. Back to listening about my sister's life. I enjoy it because even compared to my life in Florida, hers is much more exciting. Her life is action packed drama, polluting her mind with assumptions, mistrust, and unshakable anxiety that someone close to her is plotting against her. A life such as this leaves people feeling vulnerable and angry. 

Maybe it's wrong of me to get such satisfaction out of all of it, but it's not just her this happens to. I've witnessed it in all our lives since living here. No, not OUR lives. THEIR lives. Then it occurred to me. I feel so privileged as to be left out of the "excitement" or "drama," but the reality is that I'm the unlucky one. For the first time ever, I feel as if I'm not longer the leading character in my own life. I'm passing through the lives of every person I've encountered, but it is THEIR life. I find it strange that I have the capability to realize that I'm no longer the main character. Most people are able to make their lives solely about them. Since I've lived here, I've been unable to do so. At this point, I'm not exactly sure if I like not being in the lead anymore. On one hand, it's a good break from my own life. I'm not living my own life, I'm a passenger in theirs. It feels good being able to do whatever I want, think what I want, be what I want without any repercussions. Well not any serious ones anyway. In a month and a half, I'll be out of here.

However, I find it rather annoying that all my efforts to matter in this town and to matter to the people I meet are useless. These aren't friends that I'm making for life. These are people who have befriended me for the time being. I digress. The point of this ramble is to explain how incredible it is when you realize you're not living your life anymore. When you realize you're a visitor in someone else's world. I feel as if I'm stuck in a limbo of sorts. I find it strange that my indifference about leaving Florida has yet to change. I find it strange that I moved so easily, started living someone else's life, and none of it bothers me. It's as if Kellie has fallen off the face of the earth. My life stopped abruptly the day I left Florida. I haven't started living it again. Not yet at least. So the question still remains. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Is not existing in your own world a terrible thing? Or is it simply the break that most people need from their own lives? An escape from reality possibly. Not that this isn't reality. It's just not my reality.