Vassar on the brain.
I would like a draft of my Vassar Admissions essay. This I would like very much. Maybe an alumni reading this will telepathically send me one. Right.
Na na na na na. This is my world.
Daria on youtube would be nice right now.
What I really need right now is sleep.
I "cleaned" my room tonight. It took a long time, because I had to be careful how I had been bending. It felt good, to see the floor. There was this inner piece that came to me. I kept wrestling with the Noise, and then all of a sudden, "something stupid happened." A bag broke, and I knew I was Pushing myself when I thought to sort through it. Yet, I knew also at that moment that that was what I needed to feel closure from the Night.
[Insert awesome night poem here.]
Any hootle, So I found a bunch of my stuff. Literally found. What I uncovered was my sketch book, (I felt creeps and sparkle motion in me.) I found drawings and black and white prints.
-One that Omar took of me, with my funny post-International Hair Inc haircut.
:thinks to self: "Lisattack"
blah blah.
ok and then I caught a glimpse of an unfinished "spiral" drawing, and I gasped*
I had completely left that image. I had COMPLETELY forgotten who I was. At this point on the floor, I had already realized that I trusted myself.
(I became aware later of the "zone" feeling from cleaning/sports/doing something focused.)
When a part of myself had asked myself in my head a bit earlier, If I trusted myself, if i was scared of myself, I asked "what do you need to trust yourself?" and I responded "strength."
And myself told me, well then you Must (actually) trust yourself, because someone who did not trust themself would not respond strength. (Its such a paradox to talk about parts of yourself in anything other than 1st person it feels.)
So there and I finished the bullshit, and v-the photograph of the playground that Professor Towery loved so much. I put it up high so it looked like a window.
Physical pain scares me, sharp physical pain from repetitive motion, or instead of sharp, pain in joint, what is the word. The cold in my joints. Hurt my wrist yesterday jogging. blah blah.
Not doing things consciously scares me.
Anyway, I'm too tired and spasmy-physically right now to appreciate this writing experience anymore. I need to wake up early, do laundry (be brave) and write my Vassar essay.
I wish I had a draft at least. Whatevs, this is Vassar ET style. I just need to be strong enough to grab hold of myself again, and everything else will follow.
I miss Josh. ha ha. silly-pms.
I need closure, ona lot of things right now. And fortunetly sleep masquerades as closure at these hours.
Fuck time.
Happles of spring.soon.
Na na na na na. This is my world.
Daria on youtube would be nice right now.
What I really need right now is sleep.
I "cleaned" my room tonight. It took a long time, because I had to be careful how I had been bending. It felt good, to see the floor. There was this inner piece that came to me. I kept wrestling with the Noise, and then all of a sudden, "something stupid happened." A bag broke, and I knew I was Pushing myself when I thought to sort through it. Yet, I knew also at that moment that that was what I needed to feel closure from the Night.
[Insert awesome night poem here.]
Any hootle, So I found a bunch of my stuff. Literally found. What I uncovered was my sketch book, (I felt creeps and sparkle motion in me.) I found drawings and black and white prints.
-One that Omar took of me, with my funny post-International Hair Inc haircut.
:thinks to self: "Lisattack"
blah blah.
ok and then I caught a glimpse of an unfinished "spiral" drawing, and I gasped*
I had completely left that image. I had COMPLETELY forgotten who I was. At this point on the floor, I had already realized that I trusted myself.
(I became aware later of the "zone" feeling from cleaning/sports/doing something focused.)
When a part of myself had asked myself in my head a bit earlier, If I trusted myself, if i was scared of myself, I asked "what do you need to trust yourself?" and I responded "strength."
And myself told me, well then you Must (actually) trust yourself, because someone who did not trust themself would not respond strength. (Its such a paradox to talk about parts of yourself in anything other than 1st person it feels.)
So there and I finished the bullshit, and v-the photograph of the playground that Professor Towery loved so much. I put it up high so it looked like a window.
Physical pain scares me, sharp physical pain from repetitive motion, or instead of sharp, pain in joint, what is the word. The cold in my joints. Hurt my wrist yesterday jogging. blah blah.
Not doing things consciously scares me.
Anyway, I'm too tired and spasmy-physically right now to appreciate this writing experience anymore. I need to wake up early, do laundry (be brave) and write my Vassar essay.
I wish I had a draft at least. Whatevs, this is Vassar ET style. I just need to be strong enough to grab hold of myself again, and everything else will follow.
I miss Josh. ha ha. silly-pms.
I need closure, ona lot of things right now. And fortunetly sleep masquerades as closure at these hours.
Fuck time.
Happles of spring.soon.