i guess i lied, this is a new journal entry, like my first in over a year it feels like. i usually only write her when im absolutely desperate. i guess this will change that. im not desperate. not at all. i feel weird though, almost numb but more hyper-sensitive. but ill change my tone, i hate when people b***h in their journals..although if ever there was a place to b***h, this would be it.
i cant believe how much things have changed from the last time i wrote here. i dont even dress the same, talk the same, sound the same. im a little ashamed to admit i dress like a hipster now, however more moderately but id rather be a hipster than ghetto *ahem ahem*. i do concede that its better to be different now, to know what i know, see things the way i see them with worn and experienced eyes. i feel embarassed at how naive i used to be, and probably still am. i wont pretend to be a 'better' person, because im most definitely not. just different. (i just realised the lintel of my closet is crooked..bugger)
i think the best part about being older is nothing surprises you anymore. you dont say 'oh ********, that cute girl just told all nine of her friends the same secret she just promised me she would never repeat' or 'i just ******** with that girl and she told everyone' or maybe getting drunk called from your mates or whatever. but its worth it im sure. you still want life to surprise you a bit, if it didnt then we might as well all burst into flames when we had become jaded. part of that is learning that friends, while vital to living arent really worth s**t (sorry). of course thats debatable, but i mean hear me out, friends are here to kill awkward silences, split bills with and generally provide moral and emotional support. and thats just a paradigm of a good friend. friends deviate from that s**t of course because we are humans with flaws and such. point being, that they carry you around until you can walk again, and then you help carry them around in this torturous altruistic cycle, but its worth it dont get me wrong. but im just trying to say dont depend too much on friends, you should need your friends as much as they need you, if that balance ever starts to shift then you know youve either become too close, youre in love, or youre becoming codependant to your friends (most likely) bad habits that no one else will stomach, ergo why you are their friend. ughh
anyway, my novella is still coming along. about as slowly as it was while i was still in school. i guess that was just the excuse i gave to why it was progressing as slowly as it was. you really cant rush inspiration, especially when its its semi-autobiographical. you want to portray yourself appropriately (with some advantages of course) but without skewing the baser truth. the title for it, i found in a funny place now that i think about it. idk if any of you know the show from the fifties and sixties called the twilight zone, narrated and mostly written by rod serling. he was a phenominal writer, and he spoke in the same way he wrote. he died of lung cancer from smoking a while ago, definitely before i was born. in the seventies i think. but the show was basically a bunch of writers from across the country submitting short stories, all very well written, and they would be adapted to screenplay in an hour long or half hour long slot. the episodes were all always brilliantly shot and very artistic. most great actors of the fifties and sixties and seventies got their start in minor rolls on the twilight zone, like telly savalas or william shatner to name a few. but anyway the stories were mostly science fiction that illuminated the innocence of children and really stressed the prevalence of human endurance and strength and the cosmic good and evil s**t you always hear but here it was gold, i swear.
but yah idk what else to say but i will probably be in touch. dont underestimate the power of bitching. later.
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