Prompt #7

I am sitting here in a lamp lit room, with too much caffein and way too much on my mind, thinking about a time when all I could physically and mentally do is think about something else, a time where I could not stand still and focus on something needed, and a time where my body was in one place, and my thoughts another. I am trying to remember when that time was and how I can write it in a manner I feel is most appropriate, a manner I feel is the most beautifully presented. And as I write and delete and write and delete and write and delete and delete more and more and continue, I realize that that moment is right now. I am trying to figure out what color I want my bed sheets to be in my New York University freshman dorm room, rather than my English assignment due tomorrow. But why? Why must I think about my imaginary color scheme in a college to still be determined? Why am I so obsessed with this vision on the future that I cannot sit still and write my blog about not being comfortable? Why, please tell me why, I cannot at this moment be where I am with 100 percent consideration and understanding? And then I think: "Well I love purple, and I love green, and together? Nah. Too much. What if my roommate thinks I am a barney loving freak? HA HA HA that would be hilarious, and sadly depressing. Moving on. English Homework." I am sitting here driving my self crazy, now thinking way too hard about something that should be as simple as the alphabet (which now that I think about, is not all that simple after all, since it creates the language I speak). I am noticing that thinking so deeply about these words I am typing is making it even harder to concentrate. How about this, I ask my self. How about you stop typing, think about where you are and what you are doing, and be here, be here where you really are, not at NYU or Pottery Barn, not in your futuristic life in a futuristic college with futuristic bed duvets. Then I come back to surface noticing my breaths and my objective of tonight, and that is to write about a time where I cannot be where I actually am.  And, well, you just read it.