Fucking touchpad just erased my entry. Goddamn I hate laptops sometimes.
Things are complicated, here. I am upset and uncomfortable. So much shit flying around these days, and I can't seem to find exactly where I belong. Those I thought were friends show colours more fitting to cowards. Family abandons, and later returns only when in need. And there is never enough fucking money. Christ...
I go to class, read, write, and shoot photos. I listen to all kinds of music; perhaps lately some slower sad stuff I should know better than to even go near.
I wander, and I find these little scraps of shit everywhere, these tiny pieces of life. And they make me stop, they make me pause, they make me think. I struggle so hard to find some meaning in this great and wide world, and suddenly am surprised with the depths of emotion in simple words, an old photo or a forgotten item. I don't know if finding such things is a blessing or a curse. They stick in my head for days. I am finding life in the forgotten pieces left behind by others. I am surely crazy.
"You will never get this letter. From the bottom of the sea I cannot send it. It has been so long that I feel as if you are a ghost and that I am writing to the dead. Under the water, deep and crushing, the lights flicker, my heart skips, and the hull moans as I scratch SOS's into the walls of my birth.
If we ever meet again, I will give you this letter. Somewhere far away from here perhaps, where there are only beginnings. "
Things are complicated, here. I am upset and uncomfortable. So much shit flying around these days, and I can't seem to find exactly where I belong. Those I thought were friends show colours more fitting to cowards. Family abandons, and later returns only when in need. And there is never enough fucking money. Christ...
I go to class, read, write, and shoot photos. I listen to all kinds of music; perhaps lately some slower sad stuff I should know better than to even go near.
I wander, and I find these little scraps of shit everywhere, these tiny pieces of life. And they make me stop, they make me pause, they make me think. I struggle so hard to find some meaning in this great and wide world, and suddenly am surprised with the depths of emotion in simple words, an old photo or a forgotten item. I don't know if finding such things is a blessing or a curse. They stick in my head for days. I am finding life in the forgotten pieces left behind by others. I am surely crazy.
"You will never get this letter. From the bottom of the sea I cannot send it. It has been so long that I feel as if you are a ghost and that I am writing to the dead. Under the water, deep and crushing, the lights flicker, my heart skips, and the hull moans as I scratch SOS's into the walls of my birth.
If we ever meet again, I will give you this letter. Somewhere far away from here perhaps, where there are only beginnings. "