Angels and Demons

Have you ever woken up one morning and just wondered, What the ever-loving hell am I doing with my life?

I do. In fact, I did this morning. I’ve been doing it a lot lately.

Today, what I’m going to do is take two of my most recent posts and mash them together to try and sum up how I’ve been feeling for the past several months.

In high school, I was punk/goth. My playlists consisted of mostly Skillet, Evanescence, Within Temptation, Linkin Park, and Nickelback. I was a drama nerd- not popular, but I had enough friends to not feel alone. Better yet, I preferred my smallish circle of weird, nerdy friends to the popular people at my school. It was a niche, it was mine, and I liked it.

My friends and I had dreams. Me, I was going to be a Broadway star, or a film actress. Maybe a writer. Regardless, I was going to be some kind of glamorous. I woke up every morning and put on my black fishnet gloves as a way of saying, Yeah, I stick out. Look at me, I’m one of THEM, those artsy people. We were like the Children of the Revolution, the ones who really experienced the world in a way few others did. Whether we were right or (more likely) delusional was irrelevant. What mattered was how we felt about it. In our eyes, we were ruggedly beautiful. We weren’t normal, that would be boring. We were angels and demons, faeries and wolves. We saw raw energy in the world, and our only real desire was to reflect it like mirrors. Music, theater, poetry, prose- we used any medium we could.

I could have sat and listened for hours to Skillet’s “Comatose” album, or Within Temptation’s “Black Symphony” concert DVD. I could be Comatose, Frozen, Jillian, Lucy, Breaking the Habit or wanting to be a Rockstar. My dreams were a part of me. I used to think that they were my vision of the future, something I used to distract myself from what I was really like, but looking back, I think I may have been wrong. Those are the things I most remember about myself. I remember putting on black eyeliner and straightening my hair, wearing combat boots with miniskirts. I remember the drama of it all.

I miss the drama.

When people ask me what I’m going to do when I graduate, I almost want to say I’m going back to how I used to be. I’m starting to think that I may be happiest if I can work in a live event coverage scene. I want to film concerts. I want to use my passion for ‘the artsy stuff’ for more than just TV news. I want to create, and I want to showcase the things I find beautiful. I’m tired of getting up every day just to go through the motions again. Doubtless my high school days were just as mundane as today is, but this isn’t how I want to remember it.  If I need to start dressing in all black and studded leather again, I’ll do it.

I just want to feel and see the beautiful again. Maybe I’m just being overemotional today, but maybe not.

All I can say is this- If I get my way, I’ll be filming rock concerts before I’m thirty. Sound cocky? Good.