My polaroid reminds me of who I am on the inside and out. While the outside is a pretty light blue, it is scratched and scarred trying to make it along. My polaroid tried to be what any camera is.
It's scratched on the left side by the button used to open the lens; it's from dropping it on the kitchen table along with my bruised binder and pin-covered backpack. It's dented on the top, almost where a memory would relapse itself into reality because it toppled over my dresser when I accidently knocked it over while grabbing my jacket and I forgot my polaroid was being sheltered underneath it.
I still hold it up close to me so I can see what it sees: a bed with dog fur and chocolate stains from who-knows-when, a nightstand with a silver lamp and a water-stained top from the water bottles I used for when I was sick or dehydrated or sad. It all looks so familiar to me, even through a different lens.
Something with my camera is off. It's focus: the glass I look through is fine and it's right in the middle of everything else, but when I want to hold on to something so beautiful, the click of a button ruins it all. Everything changes, it focuses on the things unimportant, the things that should remain out of frame but continue to be the things to keep you up at night.
My polaroid reminds me of who I am. Off focus. I'm talking about the nights when you dream it happened again and you wake up crying because you don't know why this keeps happening and all you can think is "Why is this happening again?" Off focus.
Rather than focus on what's on my paper I think about the past: the test I failed, the silly questions I asked and the laughs and glares that followed. I wish I pulled out my polaroid right there and take a picture to focus on something else for the time being.
Maybe it's because when the dreaded piece inked paper comes in the mail my sister gets a tight hug and a congrats and all I get is a mere grin saying, "Maybe next time you can try something different," and all I can do it nod and try and focus on something else.
My polaroid and I have a lot in common. We didn't do this to ourselves or on purpose, maybe we are both just off. Focus.