weird
It's thinking of sitting on my front porch this up coming fall, thinking about now, thats weird. the thought of sitting here, in front of my computer in a small room where i am away from the horrid step-father, in the future, when I am in grade twelve and alone...it's weird. what a weird thought, being an adult, being in control of my life, or at least having that illusion.
next year, grade twelve. my last year, and I'm going to be the only one left in the music room my age/older than grade 11. no one to look up down, only down. not even someone from my grade in there...there never was. thats weird. ill be the oldest one there, who actually stays there...assuming i do. but, if i didn't, where would I go, right? where else am I allowed to leave my crap? no where, thats right.
next year.
right now, it looks like a very lonely road, and its going to stretch beyond grad next year. you know what? I think I know who I am now. at last, that stupid-ass phase, that dumb role-confusion shit is DONE. i know it is. i actually feel the bottom of the ocean under my feet now. and I think the fog is clearing too. GRAND!
well, im not happy. i'm not feeling nostealgic either, i'm just feeling a little scared. not a lot, just and little bit of uncertainty about things to come. I'm not sure what my life will be like, and i'm terrified of having a bad job for most of it. I don't want to lose a grip of my dreams, of what i want to be able to do. I want to travel, but i will never have enough money for it, not as an artist, right?
well, we've all been through this, haven't we? that bit of fear at the ominous, inevitable future, the vast and mysterious doom that comes to us all. ha. i laugh at it, yes, because i know what will happen. not in terms of "I'll work as this for so many years, meet someone in my late twenties and marry them at thirty" nothing like that. I can just feel that bit of rejection, disappointment, and shock that is bound to come to me. come on, guys, i wont be famous till i'm dead, and thats because im an artist...and artists are never famous unless they're on the simpsons, and that show is actually going down the drain now, isn't it?
well, theres my future for you. but, in the meantime, lets not get too ahead of ourselves. i'm going to be sitting on my front porch next fall, grade twelve, thinking back to my early days of highschool. is this familiar? who hasn't done that before?
summer vacation. harumph. what a dumb thing! i'm not doing much this summer, just sitting here, contemplating my doom, trying to be a philosopher, a writer, something other than myself. i'm going to deal with things this summer, get them out of the way, for once. and that will feel good..i hope. i've already been fooled about ideas and truth.
my walk with emma was not what i hoped it would be. I didn't feel relief, i didn't feel a big weight being lifted from my shoulders and nirvana from being away from home. i was in stirling still. it was a long walk, fun, but not relieving. if anything, it simply reminded me of things, of what i would leave behind in a fast approaching year's end.
so, there i learned that ideas can be oh so beautiful, but the real thing can be as bland as normal life. that sucks. that makes schizophrenia look so appealing right now. hey, at least im a potential for it. i would rather be crazy than live in this world for so long with such a truth: that the real world will never be as fulfilling as my dreams.
of course, thats my own opinion.
but i hope that by dealing with things, and sorting them out, i'm not making another mess for myself, and i really do feel better about everything. i hope. i can hope all i want, hm?
so, can i be a writer someday?
doubt it
i'm just a delusional artist with a wild imagination and no hope or talent to carry myself by. that SUCKS.
anyway, have a good summer, if i haven't said so already. i'm sure ill update tomorrow again...i have that horrible habit of repeating myself via-blogging, and i dont feel the shame of posting it again and again. sorry, but...well, haves a discretion:
I WILL REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN!
next year, grade twelve. my last year, and I'm going to be the only one left in the music room my age/older than grade 11. no one to look up down, only down. not even someone from my grade in there...there never was. thats weird. ill be the oldest one there, who actually stays there...assuming i do. but, if i didn't, where would I go, right? where else am I allowed to leave my crap? no where, thats right.
next year.
right now, it looks like a very lonely road, and its going to stretch beyond grad next year. you know what? I think I know who I am now. at last, that stupid-ass phase, that dumb role-confusion shit is DONE. i know it is. i actually feel the bottom of the ocean under my feet now. and I think the fog is clearing too. GRAND!
well, im not happy. i'm not feeling nostealgic either, i'm just feeling a little scared. not a lot, just and little bit of uncertainty about things to come. I'm not sure what my life will be like, and i'm terrified of having a bad job for most of it. I don't want to lose a grip of my dreams, of what i want to be able to do. I want to travel, but i will never have enough money for it, not as an artist, right?
well, we've all been through this, haven't we? that bit of fear at the ominous, inevitable future, the vast and mysterious doom that comes to us all. ha. i laugh at it, yes, because i know what will happen. not in terms of "I'll work as this for so many years, meet someone in my late twenties and marry them at thirty" nothing like that. I can just feel that bit of rejection, disappointment, and shock that is bound to come to me. come on, guys, i wont be famous till i'm dead, and thats because im an artist...and artists are never famous unless they're on the simpsons, and that show is actually going down the drain now, isn't it?
well, theres my future for you. but, in the meantime, lets not get too ahead of ourselves. i'm going to be sitting on my front porch next fall, grade twelve, thinking back to my early days of highschool. is this familiar? who hasn't done that before?
summer vacation. harumph. what a dumb thing! i'm not doing much this summer, just sitting here, contemplating my doom, trying to be a philosopher, a writer, something other than myself. i'm going to deal with things this summer, get them out of the way, for once. and that will feel good..i hope. i've already been fooled about ideas and truth.
my walk with emma was not what i hoped it would be. I didn't feel relief, i didn't feel a big weight being lifted from my shoulders and nirvana from being away from home. i was in stirling still. it was a long walk, fun, but not relieving. if anything, it simply reminded me of things, of what i would leave behind in a fast approaching year's end.
so, there i learned that ideas can be oh so beautiful, but the real thing can be as bland as normal life. that sucks. that makes schizophrenia look so appealing right now. hey, at least im a potential for it. i would rather be crazy than live in this world for so long with such a truth: that the real world will never be as fulfilling as my dreams.
of course, thats my own opinion.
but i hope that by dealing with things, and sorting them out, i'm not making another mess for myself, and i really do feel better about everything. i hope. i can hope all i want, hm?
so, can i be a writer someday?
doubt it
i'm just a delusional artist with a wild imagination and no hope or talent to carry myself by. that SUCKS.
anyway, have a good summer, if i haven't said so already. i'm sure ill update tomorrow again...i have that horrible habit of repeating myself via-blogging, and i dont feel the shame of posting it again and again. sorry, but...well, haves a discretion:
I WILL REPEAT MYSELF AGAIN!
prematurely released by Norah at 9:28 PM
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