My Life as a Machine: Changing the Gears

Afloat in the air is the aura of change. I have no idea why I feel this. Maybe it is my own desire to change that has manifested itself into something tangible. It’s almost like smelling something so deeply, it infects your lungs, and you feel every inspiration dissolve the blood in your veins.

I suppose I want to change my gears, but I feel that the more I want to change, the more I cling to my old nature. When I want to wear a skirt, I simply psych my mind into thinking I’m a barbie. “Hey, look at me. I can wear a skirt. Now I’m a girl.” Then, this other side of me takes over, chiding my need to show some leg, to put on make-up, to love the size of bra cup. I honestly like dressing like a boy, with a T-shirt and baggy clothing, but people treat me differently. I want to be seen as a woman.

I suppose I simply dislike being treated any less than I’m worth. I mean, I’m worth more than I can describe, and yet, I allow people to trample those thoughts of myself. I’m only allocated one life, and I don’t feel like I’m using it adequately enough.

At my age–although I appear to be in high school at most–I should know exactly how my life should turn out. My resolve, however, has faltered in so many ways lately, and I’m desperately seeking it.

Some days, I’m fine. I function fully and utterly soundlessly, and other days, I feel the gears begin to creak under the weight of an unknown pressure. Could it be that I’m truly trying to find myself? I thought I found her, me. Maybe what I need is a complete resolve, decision. In Amy Yamada’s Trash, she questioned her resolve and when she suddenly realized the truth around her, her resolve appeared. Am I lacking that catalyst? Do I need to undergo surgery beneath drama for my resolve to push into my body?

When I try to regain my decisive and aggressive nature, I lose something once the moment leaves me. And yet, I still feel the burning sensation of vibrations in the air. The scent of novelty and familiarity suddenly invade my senses, and I relax beneath it. Maybe I already know the answer to my search for peace. Maybe my body knows it, and I simply overwhelm my surprisingly fragile being into identifying it. Quite possibly, I can leave it alone and wait for the aura in the air to reveal itself to me.


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