Life never moves

fast enough for me. I'm speedily moving ahead in my imagination towards my degrees and travels and purchases and accomplishments. The miracle that (I hear) is today never presents itself that way. Today always stretches on, leaving me cold, leaving me longing for the brightness and promise that is tomorrow. That is in five years. That is when I'm dead and buried, forever resting, touching the walls of warm velvet lining.

I have an idea for a short story or novel, but I'm scared to start writing it. What if it isn't any good? What if I get stuck? Who will I talk to about it? What if it makes me more unhappy than happy?

I don't feel any responsibility towards what I write or what I say. "Sarah, I've been thinking about when you said ______." My newest friend can recap my words verbatim. Whenver she starts this sentence, I feel myself turn uncomfortable. What is she going to say that I said? Will I even agree with myself anymore? I forget how powerful words are. A friendship ended after I said, "I think I've eaten most foods."

Of course, that friendship had been unraveling for a while.

I'll hear myself say things and realize they aren't true. Like, the second after I say them. Or, I'll hear how they might be misconstrued, and instantly want to take them back. I think this is why that movie / Ian McEwan novel "Atonment" was so successful. The premise of the movie is that this little girl lies and her lie causes life-long pain for people she loves. Who doesn't relate to that?

Does getting older mean that you have things in life that can't be reconciled? Things that you carry with yourself to the velvet lined box? Maybe this is why we need to live for today ... because tomorrow we'll have years and years of baggage that will create complexities which we can neither reconcile nor forget.