home is where the heart is?
Like daddy said, "home is everywhere, wherever you go, there it is."
It's hard to agree when you're family is forced to leave the home you ADORE, and you feel thrown out into a less, well, "homey" world. I've lived on my own since I was seventeen, left on my own terms to explore the world of teenage angst, parties, and the heavy-duty honing of my craft. I turn twenty-one and I learn that this may be the last chance to live with my family, all under one roof. Well it was. Then again, I should be thankful that I was even granted the chance, even if it was for only a couple of months.
So I got spit back into the world and all I want to do is stand on my rooftop and yell "hey world, here I am!", maybe get a respond or two. Even if I'm not heard, it will feel a hell of a lot better than drinking cheap vodka by myself, drowning in lyrics, in front of a pale monitor.
thank hellness for cherry blossom, the baby pitbull. I am the tamer of that little bitch.
things I need to do more:
1. yoga (I have free membership, my sister is an instructor yet I take little advantage of it.) I am supposed to be in flawless shape if I want to survive the industry, but my lack of will is preventing me from doing so.
2. work more. I complain endlessly about being broke but I am constantly trying to get my shifts covered. Maybe I need a new job, and a new sea of unfamiliar faces.
3. sleep LESS. Everyone is starting to get annoyed with me and the fact that I have an addiction? to lucid dreaming and I can't help having wonderful sheets and pillows to keep me stationed in what seems a better place at times.
4. drink/smoke LESS, or at least smarter.
5. paint more. I have stacks and stacks of beautiful blank canvas' of all sizes, every acrylic color possible, an elaborate array of brushes, yet there they remain, collecting dust and yearning for an artist.
6. get the HELL out of this city; I love it when I'm gone and resent it when I'm here.
8. get my current headshots done. How else do I expect to work?
7. keep up with my laundry...
... I've got loads with my name on it.
p.s.
I miss home.