Misery is a Butterfly
Like hell I'm on another emo kid music jag. This is the best CD ever.
So batten down the hatches, kids, it's bitch-fest time. Again. Main premise: I feel like I'm turning into a fuck up. Case in point, I'm supposed to be writing an essay and some Caledonian articles right now but am doing this instead. I really have nothing to say for myself... I just don't care anymore. English class especially annoys me. I can't seem to get any higher than a 6 when any English teacher of mine grades my essay, but I got the highest score on last year's official AP test. The only thing I can figure is that it's ridiculously arbitrary and isn't actually a measure of my writing ability. And that really bothers me. It makes me want to not give a fuck. A lot.
Issue number 2, this morning's SAT tests. Five long hours of page after page of the same shit. I thought it would only be four hours long, but that would be too easy. I don't know about you, but I think a five-hour long test is fucking inhumane. And it's going to determine my college future, no less. I don't agree with the whole thing and am angry that I had to spend my morning on it. And that's the gist of that whole thing.
Also, I feel bad about having my future figured out. Every time anyone gives me shit about going to the UO I get to feeling like a serious fuck up because I'm so insecure about the whole thing. It's not like I don't have any plans or abitions or anything, I just feel like a fuck up for not applying to Harvard with all of the other smart kids. I would, but I know I don't want to go there and don't want to spend the money on the application fee. That money could be better spent on shoes.
I still don't want to do my work. This was supposed to help with that. I want to make a woodblock stamp but can't quite figure out what to make it of, which depresses me. I did buy a mighty fine vintage skirt yesterday, though. It's a little flamboyant, but I've decided to become more flamboyant myself so as to match it. I'd wear it dancing, were I going dancing. But I'm not. I'm going to write an essay.
So batten down the hatches, kids, it's bitch-fest time. Again. Main premise: I feel like I'm turning into a fuck up. Case in point, I'm supposed to be writing an essay and some Caledonian articles right now but am doing this instead. I really have nothing to say for myself... I just don't care anymore. English class especially annoys me. I can't seem to get any higher than a 6 when any English teacher of mine grades my essay, but I got the highest score on last year's official AP test. The only thing I can figure is that it's ridiculously arbitrary and isn't actually a measure of my writing ability. And that really bothers me. It makes me want to not give a fuck. A lot.
Issue number 2, this morning's SAT tests. Five long hours of page after page of the same shit. I thought it would only be four hours long, but that would be too easy. I don't know about you, but I think a five-hour long test is fucking inhumane. And it's going to determine my college future, no less. I don't agree with the whole thing and am angry that I had to spend my morning on it. And that's the gist of that whole thing.
Also, I feel bad about having my future figured out. Every time anyone gives me shit about going to the UO I get to feeling like a serious fuck up because I'm so insecure about the whole thing. It's not like I don't have any plans or abitions or anything, I just feel like a fuck up for not applying to Harvard with all of the other smart kids. I would, but I know I don't want to go there and don't want to spend the money on the application fee. That money could be better spent on shoes.
I still don't want to do my work. This was supposed to help with that. I want to make a woodblock stamp but can't quite figure out what to make it of, which depresses me. I did buy a mighty fine vintage skirt yesterday, though. It's a little flamboyant, but I've decided to become more flamboyant myself so as to match it. I'd wear it dancing, were I going dancing. But I'm not. I'm going to write an essay.