As I Sit Here, Wishing to be Weird

As I sit here, completely uninspired and desiring to be, I watch other people. I always have watched other people; I watch them, wondering if they’re inspired or even happy. I’m not happy. I’m sitting here writing what feels like prose poetry, forgetting the definition I learned in school, catching every spelling mistake and getting frustrated because I hate prose poetry. Why can’t we keep the two separate?

And I realize that I need to cut my fingernails because it is no longer satisfying, but annoying to have them hit the keys on my keyboard. Maybe if my nails were stronger, but they don’t feel strong. I don’t feel strong. I’ve been sick for the last week, and I still feel exhausted. The coffee and bagel aren’t helping my energy levels…

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I am still sitting here writing whatever this is. Whatever this is that is completely inspired by my utter lack of inspiration. My desperation nags at me. I don’t want to be writing right now. I want to read, reread The HobbitPride and Prejudice (no zombies please). I want to do something where it’s considered acceptable to do nothing but read all day, the same books I’ve read a thousand times, if I so choose. I always talked about going to culinary school while I was a cook. Well, maybe I am still a cook, but not right now, right now I’m funemployed, as I’ve called it… My little joke, euphemism for not having a job because my old employer lost interest in us.

And I remember how fun it is to have my hair “weird” colors. I miss pink and purple and I long to try “opal” and I can’t because I worry that I may actually get an in-person interview with a company who doesn’t want to hire people with “weird” hair. At least I grew out my faux hawk. Not to mention, this is San Francisco, the mecca of weird hair, weird people. WEIRDNESS. I long to be more weird, but it’s expensive to be weird. Tattoos, hair dye, piercings, unless you have awesome weird friends with talents they’re willing to freely give away. The services required to look “weird” are not cheap. Unless you wanted to look cheap as part of your weird. I don’t know. I want my hair to look artistic and cared for, not just weird.

I am still sitting here and I’m glad, knowing that my goal of forcing myself to write something down would make me write anything and would also literally make me feel better. I do. With my “normal” blonde hair, or maybe it’s bland, I don’t think so, yet. My shirt that says “but first, coffee.” Another attempt at normal I guess. If I stopped being so normal, I would be more brave. I miss being weird. When I first moved here, to San Francisco, I was more weird. I had more “muchness” to me. But I’ve been scared and become lazy too; I think that’s the problem.

I don’t know where to go to become inspired. I want people to call me to hang out and they don’t. I don’t know where to go. I want someone to guide me a little. Help me become weird again. Instead I sit in the cafe, drinking coffee. Pretending to be normal. Wishing I could play guitar. Maybe in an alternate life I learned to play and became a busker. Maybe that’s in the future.

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4 thoughts on “As I Sit Here, Wishing to be Weird

  1. First, let me assure you my sweet girl, no matter what color the hair you are plenty weird in my book!!! I know you wrote this in a bit of sadness, but it brought me much joy. You know how much it pleases me when you write and it was funny. I am so proud of you for digging in, maybe not as deep as you need to, and expressing your thoughts. And, sharing your blahhhness light heartedly. There is always a bright side if you look with open eyes, even if being uninspired is your inspiration.
    Although the number varies, I have heard many times you become like those you are most closely associated with. Instead of waiting for people to call you, go surround yourself with people you aspire to be like! Join a writers group or book club, or start something unique on MeetUp! I also heard once that the self is not something we find, it is something we create. You are your own blank slate right now and have all the power within you to become the person you have always dreamed of being.
    You are you and you is amazing!

  2. YOU ARE WEIRD BEAUTIFUL WEIRD. What or who do you care about weird woman? What do weird woman do to hold up the world? Find some other weird woman and dance with them sing with them and help make the place where we live beautiful weird.Look for weird woman magic. Love to you form an old weird grandma

  3. stay weird, you crazy beautiful person… and keep writing articles such as this. i loved it. and i’ve decided to follow you because you seem kindred to me… apart from the fact you hate prose poetry and that’s kinda all i write these days… haha. but i like your style of writing. there’s a bleak humour in your melancholy. i really like that. you live in San Francisco – one of the most colourful and vibrant cities in the world – that’s awesome. there must be much inspiration there, no? don’t try to be ‘weird’ – because you already are (in a good and shiny way). we are all ‘weird’ in our own ways… explore thyself. that should spark some inspiration. you’re young, beautiful and talented. go for it!

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