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  • Sam Walla

yours truly, sam

My Costar keeps telling me that I “already have the power.” I sometimes believe it. Other times, though, I feel like I have misplaced ambition: a Pinterest board full of crochet projects, a bullet journal with a habit tracker filled out for the first three days of the month, swiftly forgotten, a laser-focused tirade of adding workout vlogs to my Watch Later list… And still the feeling that I’m not doing enough, progressing fast enough, if at all, prevails.


I’m a big visualization person. Visualize the life you want, manifest good things and they will come to you — it’s an easy mindset to have when everything is going right. The reality is, my senior year is not what I pictured. I’m in my childhood bedroom, working at the same fast food restaurant I always have, feeling like the tired star of a reboot that has been dragged out of the vault, garnering mediocre ratings.


The anger surrounding these truths has subsided, but sitting in acceptance doesn’t feel as consistent as I expected. My routines, against the backdrop of my life as it existed before, are dull. Still, my emotions are more volatile than ever.


In my real diary, I wrote down everything that I’m unsatisfied with: my body, how I eat, my loneliness. I was left with a few questions. Are you trying really hard to accept your life? Actually trying? Are you putting yourself into everything you do? Are you afraid of failure? Why are you rejecting the life that you have when you opted out of what you’re wishing for?


But yesterday, when there was an extra hour of sunlight and I drove over the Sandy Hook bridge, I looked at the city in the distance, where the life I’ve been participating in exists without me. The blue satin ocean laid between us and the sky looked like a mood ring that couldn’t pinpoint its wearer’s feelings (something between calm, anxious and happy). I felt better then.


yours truly,

sam



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