I like to see myself as a revolutionary. A role model. A super model. A super hero. The protagonist. I would like to see myself as any of those. I would like to be any of those. I would love to like who I am.
But, as you can see, my three desires are completely incompatible and each one disappoints the other in a never ending loop. Then of course, I notice this and get upset. I am then disappointed with myself for getting upset about such petty and insecure notions. I realize that I will only ever continue to disappoint myself in a cycle, and I'll spend my life wallowing in self disappointment.
And so, yeah... That's my mental state right now, and the last thing I really need is a life-changing event that will make me question everything that has ever been taught to me in the world.
You see, I think that the universe is somehow determined to consistently screw me over and is definitely out to get me. I don't want you to think that I'm vain, because I'm not. I don't think I'm the only human being that the universe is bent on destroying. I think it happens to a very unlucky, select few. I think I'm one of them. So, yay me for being special... I guess...
So anyway, more on the universe being out to get me. It's not like it is for most people; A red light just as you thought you wouldn't be late, or needing the very thing that you never needed the day you trashed it. It's everything.
First of all, I really got the short end of the stick genetically. My whole family is tall, blonde-haired, blue eyed. My sister, for example, is athletic and undeniably beautiful. She has deep hips, an impressive chest.
It's annoying to go out with her, because everyone that sees her feels the need to stare and flirt at her fantastic genetic coding. They don't care that the blonde is a jerk when you get to know her. They don't notice the short, slightly overweight and frizzy-headed brunette standing behind her radiance. They don't care that this same brunette was a poet and a self-proclaimed philosopher. They just care about the wrapping paper, not the present.
Not to say I'm a great present. As far as gifts go, I would probably be the socks from your grandmother that were given to you instead of that new book you wanted. In fact, all that I've ever really wanted was to at least be cool socks with dots or stripes or birds or cats or something else like that on them... My sister would probably be the perfume of the present lot. She's lovely, but mostly air, and the best thing about her is the bottle.
Another instance of how much the universe hates me, is that time is never on my side. What seems to take hours for me, takes minutes for other people. You may think that this is just because I'm slow or something, but really, I think that time is a relative and personal law of the universe, and it's personalized itself to me, and making my life suck. I feel like, in world where everyone goes, "tick" I have to go, "tock". Always a step behind, never catching up, and even though I think I'm part of the same clock, I'm still an entirely different entity.
I'll play situations in my head, in which I always respond with a clever and witty remark or comeback to anything said or done to me. I then wait for said situations, but they never come. And, when they do, I always A) Forget what I was going to say, B) say it too late, or C) Say it wrong {little things, like saying 'weally!" in stead of 'really!', tend to ruin what could have been a victory}.
Going back to what I said earlier, about how I didn't need anything ground-shaking and life-changing, before I went into my whiny rant of self-pitty. Well, the universe hates me, and just what I didn't need was exactly what happened.
But, before I go into The Day My Life Fell Apart, I would like to answer your ever eager question: Who am I? Well, I know my name is Elizabeth Bray, but that doesn't really make a person, does it? In all honesty, beyond my name, I don't know anything about myself. In fact, that's what this really is about. I want to figure it all out, but I can't even see what 'it' is.