Misadventures of a Misfit

I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve heard or thought in my lifetime “If my life had a soundtrack, THIS song would be on it.” Well, that’s the basic concept for this post series: Soundtrack of a Misfit. These are the songs that, if my life indeed did have a soundtrack, would be played. As of late, it’s been this song – “Another Year” by Amanda Palmer.

I tried to fall in it again
My friends took bets and disappeared
They mime their sighing violins
I think I’ll wait another year

I want my chest pressed to your chest
My nervous systems interfere
Ten or eleven months have passed
I think I’ll wait another year

This weather turns my tricks to rust
I am a lousy engineer
The winter makes things hard enough
I think I’ll wait another year

Plus I’m only twenty-six years old
My grandma died at eighty-three
That’s lots of time if I don’t smoke
I think I’ll wait another year

I’m not as callous as you think
I barely breath when you are near
It’s not as bad when I don’t drink
I think I’ll wait another year

I have my new Bill Hicks CD
I have my friends and my career
I’m getting smaller by degrees
You said you’d help me disappear

But that could take forever
I think I’ll wait another year
It’ll be the best year ever
I think I’ll wait another year
Can’t we just wait together?
You bring the smokes, I’ll bring the beer
I think I’ll wait another year

It’s a hard thing to really describe, especially in less than a memoir sized post, but I’ll give it a good summary.

There have been so many stresses, ups and downs, reasons to move on and reasons to hold on to hope these past… well, two years now. I feel like this song sums up quite a bit of that pretty well. Diving into college and work full time, when I was used to worrying about photo shoots and artwork and, primarily, writing – it wasn’t the easiest transition in the world to make. I mean, YAY money. Yay education. But that’s a rough thing to lose when it’s your therapy, and writing definitely was. Definitely IS. So, my brain keeps hoping I’ll split in two, and Other Me will finish editing my manuscript, send it off, get it published, and rejoin me. But it doesn’t seem so.

Not to mention, the personal stress: family, friends, boyfriend. Trying to learn to keep who I am alive in a world where people are constantly fighting me to change. I’m different – not just in the “Oh looky she’s a tattooed freak monkey” – I AM different than normal 21 year old gals. Not everyone likes it, or how I handle things, or how I try to help them when they just want to self-destruct. Sometimes, it strikes me just how alone I am anymore. “My friends took bets and disappeared” really rings true here, among other lines.

Finally, freedom. I worry about whether or not I can actually BE free. Of home, of worry, of killing-me-slowly-stress, of debt, of all the bad things. I try to save up money, try to move forward (hell, I was working more jobs than I thought I ever COULD at one point) but nothing seems to progress.

So, I’d keep telling myself… it’ll only be another year until I’m on track to get published again. Until I’m doing incredible shoots and regularly selling my art. Until I’m happy again. Until I’m free.

But, I can’t wait. I get that now. Even WITH work and school and stress.. If I want my life to change, I have to change it. So, when I think about next year, it’s not what I hope will happen –

It’s what I will MAKE happen.

Hopefully, this makes a little sense. If you like this post series, do let me know. I hope to continue it with more songs and better reasons. =)

~Angel