Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Response Paper 2

Kendal Gast
ENGL 355
Substances
            I have already failed.  It is because I am scared.  Scared of what anyone who reads this will think.  Scared of exposing myself (and what goes on within my mind) to people outside of it.  The goals that I have in mind will eventually happen.  At least I hope so, because all I can say with confidence is, “I’ll figure it out”.
But that’s something I often struggle with.  I have these really awesome moments of inspiration and confidence not only in myself but also in what can be done, what I have the ability to do, the ideas that I have, and the motivation I know I possess.  And then abruptly an hour or two later, everything is back to normal and I’ve forgotten nearly all of the revelations and mental epiphanies that washed over me.  
I would be lying if I said that doesn’t happen when substances run through my body.  Of course it is more intense then, too.  It is difficult to describe, the feelings, experience, images… they’re obviously more relatable if you, the reader, have experienced something similar.  With substances it’s as if a lens is removed in front of my eyes, or the lens, already there, is polished to an extreme degree, revealing my surroundings and reality for what they really are:  reality.  I think.  Whatever I see is sharp, detailed, nuanced, and horribly constructed.  My fingers are loose, flippant.  Rubbing them together sends dull sparks up my hand and into my arm, letting me know my nerve endings and dendrites are firing away at the correct human speed, the speed that lets me know I am connected to the air engulfed in me, and I in it.  If I am tired, I nod in and out of wakefulness.  My subconscious flickers on and off, and I see my classmates navigating the rapids of the Colorado River, while in the next moment Bible verses swing around me and berate me for falling asleep with my friends too near.  Depending on what’s in my bloodstream, I often get lewd and want a woman next to me so I can feel her warmth a centimeter away from my own skin, my own lips.  It is a savory taste, first grossly salty and next metallic and finally ending on noodles, with a hint of brown sugar.
Then what becomes most evident, especially in public places, is how everyone tries to cover him or herself up or put on this little show.  For who?  Their friends?  Me?  
The show is for all of us.  The performer does not want the rest of us to know that they’re staging, trying to hide the fact that they’re uncomfortable with the way they are, look, or feel.  It’s funny to watch.  Often I just stare and get lost in all the information coming at me all at once, trying to sort out what’s important or wanting to simply let my mind wander from the next individual or odd thing my attention latches onto.  But then after awhile, I feel bad and want to run away.  I want to leave the public cacophony and hole up in my room with a book or Casey Neistat video.  Those will make me feel better, I tell myself.  

But I’m not so sure anymore.  Perhaps I never was truly sure.  Either way, it seems like there’s something missing in either situation.  Some sort of lie I refuse to tell myself in public situations or something actually meaningful to accomplish when I escape.  The missing link, however, could be the outdoors.  Typically in those wanting-to-escape situations, I’m much more happy on the journey back to my room.  It must be the outdoors.  I want it to be the outdoors, or nature, or something other than the bureaucracy of college.  But when I’m in class and especially right now, just plain old in the stage of school and completely engrossed in the assignments I need to accomplish before the next class period or due date, everything gets really mixed up and hard to pick up where I left off. 

No comments:

Post a Comment