"Digging in the dirt. Find the places we got hurt."
I am all happy and all sad all at the same time. Much has transpired since my last blog. Finished up school last Friday. Last day of high school. Collected my belongings. Finished my oil painting of Dave Gahan in art class and painted a block on the infamous wall o' art students. Went to graduation practice (times two). Went to senior awards night tonight. Received quite a few honors/awards/recognitions. (I've actually been on the go nonstop since my last day of school last week.) Tomorrow is my graduation party. And then Sunday... graduation. Oh, dear.
I am actually really upset about something right now but it's dumb and to attempt explaining it would be nearly if not completely impossible. I am a selfish person sometimes, but I think within reason. And within reason, I have my reservations. My views. Sometimes they aren't very practical, but they're there, and as long as they are, I will continue to feel guilty for thoughts about which I should/should not feel guilty. I am tired of wishy washy bullshit and definitive statements that are later retracted and everyone always having a place and me always fucking not having one. Please don't tell me I'm not entitled to be depressed about that. I am. I am completely fucking entitled. Things change, right? Thank God. But things really haven't changed in some departments in my life, for, oh, my entire life. Am I appreciated? You tell me. I am everyone's tell-all. And post. I am a damn post. Your happiness is completely separate from me. And my own personal happiness is trivial, isn't it? That's all. OK. Rant/pity party over.
Tonight, while I was searching for pictures to make into a collage for my party tomorrow, I found a memory box I initiated for someone when I was a sophomore. It contained shoelaces and coke bottles and notes and beads and pictures. And it sort of made me wish that high school wasn't ending already. But at least I kept the box and didn't throw it away, even in my anger or regret or sadness (associated with the belongings within the box). I am happy that those terrible feelings faded. I am happy I still have the box.
I have so many pictures to share but my computer has been very slow lately, and I'm tired... which essentially means you will have to wait to see any or all photographs taken post-prom. Thank you very much.
I remember listening to this Peter Gabriel album on vacation the summer before my eighth grade year. I decided to play it today for reasons unknown. I really enjoy it. And now I'm going to bed.
I am all happy and all sad all at the same time. Much has transpired since my last blog. Finished up school last Friday. Last day of high school. Collected my belongings. Finished my oil painting of Dave Gahan in art class and painted a block on the infamous wall o' art students. Went to graduation practice (times two). Went to senior awards night tonight. Received quite a few honors/awards/recognitions. (I've actually been on the go nonstop since my last day of school last week.) Tomorrow is my graduation party. And then Sunday... graduation. Oh, dear.
I am actually really upset about something right now but it's dumb and to attempt explaining it would be nearly if not completely impossible. I am a selfish person sometimes, but I think within reason. And within reason, I have my reservations. My views. Sometimes they aren't very practical, but they're there, and as long as they are, I will continue to feel guilty for thoughts about which I should/should not feel guilty. I am tired of wishy washy bullshit and definitive statements that are later retracted and everyone always having a place and me always fucking not having one. Please don't tell me I'm not entitled to be depressed about that. I am. I am completely fucking entitled. Things change, right? Thank God. But things really haven't changed in some departments in my life, for, oh, my entire life. Am I appreciated? You tell me. I am everyone's tell-all. And post. I am a damn post. Your happiness is completely separate from me. And my own personal happiness is trivial, isn't it? That's all. OK. Rant/pity party over.
Tonight, while I was searching for pictures to make into a collage for my party tomorrow, I found a memory box I initiated for someone when I was a sophomore. It contained shoelaces and coke bottles and notes and beads and pictures. And it sort of made me wish that high school wasn't ending already. But at least I kept the box and didn't throw it away, even in my anger or regret or sadness (associated with the belongings within the box). I am happy that those terrible feelings faded. I am happy I still have the box.
I have so many pictures to share but my computer has been very slow lately, and I'm tired... which essentially means you will have to wait to see any or all photographs taken post-prom. Thank you very much.
I remember listening to this Peter Gabriel album on vacation the summer before my eighth grade year. I decided to play it today for reasons unknown. I really enjoy it. And now I'm going to bed.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
ive finished my first 4 day week of 8-430 work in a major corporation and damn does that drain you, you gotta try it sometime to see what it really is like
i remember all the depression i had at this time last year. it really wasnt till i hit spring semester of college that i really did become able to overcome it for the most part. it really was a matter of me working so much that i didnt have the time for it mostly.