(no subject)
yesterday i hung out with my sister all day.
we played video games.
yeah, we rock!
after various other games, ended up i actually played Silent Hill 4.
and i actually got something accomplished.
and i got to that scary forest place.
and killed things.
oh, what fun. brutally beating things with a big pipe!
then we got tired and quit.
last night i just didn't sleep.
nope. not tired.
i watched that Crybaby movie with Johnny Depp.
cheesy-est dialogue ever. but i lovvvved it. it was great.
and then i did sleep like around six.
and then i still woke up at like... eight.
but i forced myself to lay in bed until like 11.
haha.
when i finally was up and out of bed...
and evaluated my artwork to try and further understand myself.
i do this often, actually.
and it usually ends in more confusion.
it's like the stuff i draw/write on my pictures makes all the sense in the world,
and no sense at the same time. it's like too thoughtful sometimes.
then i remind myself of this thing called character/disposition/whatnot,
and it's like 'oh, snap! that's how i am!'
i think after a while things affect me differently because my point of view on life
is artistic. anything can be pretty to me and anything and everything can (and will) mean something.
everything can be like some symbolic movie.
or figurative language in a book.
or just matter.
that's dumb. i should take things how they are. but i don't.
i tell myself quite often these days that the way i feel isn't important.
maybe i overanalyze.
(in fact i think i'm doing that right now)
but when i look at all those pictures i made...
they still all make sense to me. and they all mean something to me.
it's never like i look back and say "wow, i was so dumb!"
ever. i just don't do that.
so i never think "oh, i only thought i felt like that but now i see i didn't"
wich is okay. i'm just not like that.
everything i've ever felt was real. not just a glimpse of how i'll feel when i'm 'grown up'
every color i've ever painted was expressing something i really felt.
every line of ink i've smeared, i've smeared for a reason.
it's like in the book Diary:
"everything you do is a self portrait"
so all those pictures... they're all still me.
so they help me understand me.
and it's good.
so i'm going to get my hair cut today.
nothing major.
maybe like an inch and a half off.
i desperately need it.
and i think i'll have Courtney straighten it.
yay!
we played video games.
yeah, we rock!
after various other games, ended up i actually played Silent Hill 4.
and i actually got something accomplished.
and i got to that scary forest place.
and killed things.
oh, what fun. brutally beating things with a big pipe!
then we got tired and quit.
last night i just didn't sleep.
nope. not tired.
i watched that Crybaby movie with Johnny Depp.
cheesy-est dialogue ever. but i lovvvved it. it was great.
and then i did sleep like around six.
and then i still woke up at like... eight.
but i forced myself to lay in bed until like 11.
haha.
when i finally was up and out of bed...
and evaluated my artwork to try and further understand myself.
i do this often, actually.
and it usually ends in more confusion.
it's like the stuff i draw/write on my pictures makes all the sense in the world,
and no sense at the same time. it's like too thoughtful sometimes.
then i remind myself of this thing called character/disposition/whatnot,
and it's like 'oh, snap! that's how i am!'
i think after a while things affect me differently because my point of view on life
is artistic. anything can be pretty to me and anything and everything can (and will) mean something.
everything can be like some symbolic movie.
or figurative language in a book.
or just matter.
that's dumb. i should take things how they are. but i don't.
i tell myself quite often these days that the way i feel isn't important.
maybe i overanalyze.
(in fact i think i'm doing that right now)
but when i look at all those pictures i made...
they still all make sense to me. and they all mean something to me.
it's never like i look back and say "wow, i was so dumb!"
ever. i just don't do that.
so i never think "oh, i only thought i felt like that but now i see i didn't"
wich is okay. i'm just not like that.
everything i've ever felt was real. not just a glimpse of how i'll feel when i'm 'grown up'
every color i've ever painted was expressing something i really felt.
every line of ink i've smeared, i've smeared for a reason.
it's like in the book Diary:
"everything you do is a self portrait"
so all those pictures... they're all still me.
so they help me understand me.
and it's good.
so i'm going to get my hair cut today.
nothing major.
maybe like an inch and a half off.
i desperately need it.
and i think i'll have Courtney straighten it.
yay!