...*smash/scream/cry*
Okay, now that we've got that settled...
ARRRRRGH!!! scream scream gonk gonk crying crying crying crying crying crying
That's about it, basically. I don't like making life-altering decisions. I hate things that are hard. I hate having to search, to ask, to apply, to do everything on my ******** own for stuff that might not even matter much in the end. I remember how much I worried about credits in Holland, and I DIDN'T EVEN BRING MY STUFF INTO FW TO SEE IF I COULD GET A COURSE, and then not have to take 9 courses. Stupid. Why the hell do I GET so upset?
The lights are off. I never turn them on when I should.
I'm crying on and off. Mom says don't worry, even if you don't get them you'll be fine. Universities aren't even up-to-date for those of us wanting to enter in the fall of '06 yet, I don't think.
I think the problem is that I don't know what I really want. One day I want one thing, another day I want another. I want to be in Drama, I want to be on the radio. I want to be on TV. I want to hole myself up in a room and be on the computer forever and ever amen. I want a sign. I want a God that's easier to understand. I'm tired of having to interpret and analyze. I want to appreciate the simple things and just GET it. I'm tired of questioning.
When I'm sad I get way too introspective.
And then life seems pretty stupid, when you remove yourself from your day-to-day crap and look at it all.
Some of the greatest artists and writers killed themselves.
I feel a little numb writing things like this. It's not like I haven't said it before, haven't thought it before. It's not like it matters, in the end. You can't have happy without the sad. You can't have meaning without creating it, and meaninglessness has to be abundant for that.
********.
I can't type. My hands are cold. My fingers are really cold. Sometimes they get purple-blue at the ends. I'm still bitter at people.
I'm still bitter as Mrs. P---------- for thinking I was constantly attacking her for her ways. I'm bitter at myself for not fighting her better, for not winning. I'm bitter at myself for never bothering to ******** fight for ME. I'm selfish but afraid. Coward and stupid and good at memorizing lots of words for shiny numbers on tests that mean far too much to be healthy.
I don't know if I want to stop typing or not.
This would be a great novel, I think. My life. So long as I remembered to include everything down to the tiniest detail. Thrown in a few fictional characters, and WHAM! Tales of the band nerd/orch dork/obsessively crazy smart girl who was blunt but only when she was brave enough to be so. That girl who dressed the way she wanted to because she was too much of a DIVA to blend in. That girl who ate oreos off the school playground because they were tasty.
********.
It's a great word.
 Renee the Rabid Squirrel · Tue Sep 27, 2005 @ 01:03am · 0 Comments |
