used to be friendly
Angelina - we've been writing in this thing for the past six years - and before that you were on some other site.
It's weird though, to think that 4-5 years ago I was updating this throughout the course of my week and sometimes my day, and now it's maybe once every couple of months, just to feel like I have something to write down. It went from really awful poems, indulging my and my friends' unrelenting narcissism and the discovery of insta-gratifying and sometimes insta-self-nullifying digital pictures, and embarrassing memoirs that I don't even want to think about without feeling several shades of red, and progressively over the past few years it turned into this thing where I'd type in a few words when something really bad happened or maybe I'd want to complain about something, because I've become so cynical about everything and everyone around me.
And here it goes again -
1. moving. Again.
2. Spent the past 6 years swearing never to become the "art school drop out" because I'd rather blow my brains out. But then I discover that the first 3 years of school are just a tutorial, and in no way are a preparation for the skills you need to have once you reach your final level before graduation.
3. It's become painfully real to me how every little thing that you put out there is put under a microscope and disected to the point that it beckons you to re-evaluate everything you've ever done and whether it ever measured up. How when you were 14 you thought you could just throw yourself out there and recieve nothing but praise whether or not you were any good at anything.
I was on the news being interviewed on valentine's day for a segment on environmental-friendly art and it felt good because i felt like I was finally getting some sort of validity, until I called everyone and realized my mom and best friend were the only ones who watched it.
here's to the rest of the semester and the sleep i will not be partaking in.
It's weird though, to think that 4-5 years ago I was updating this throughout the course of my week and sometimes my day, and now it's maybe once every couple of months, just to feel like I have something to write down. It went from really awful poems, indulging my and my friends' unrelenting narcissism and the discovery of insta-gratifying and sometimes insta-self-nullifying digital pictures, and embarrassing memoirs that I don't even want to think about without feeling several shades of red, and progressively over the past few years it turned into this thing where I'd type in a few words when something really bad happened or maybe I'd want to complain about something, because I've become so cynical about everything and everyone around me.
And here it goes again -
1. moving. Again.
2. Spent the past 6 years swearing never to become the "art school drop out" because I'd rather blow my brains out. But then I discover that the first 3 years of school are just a tutorial, and in no way are a preparation for the skills you need to have once you reach your final level before graduation.
3. It's become painfully real to me how every little thing that you put out there is put under a microscope and disected to the point that it beckons you to re-evaluate everything you've ever done and whether it ever measured up. How when you were 14 you thought you could just throw yourself out there and recieve nothing but praise whether or not you were any good at anything.
I was on the news being interviewed on valentine's day for a segment on environmental-friendly art and it felt good because i felt like I was finally getting some sort of validity, until I called everyone and realized my mom and best friend were the only ones who watched it.
here's to the rest of the semester and the sleep i will not be partaking in.