Life. Simple?
Why are you asleep while I sit here awake at 4:03 in the morning. Why am i not closing my eyes and dreaming?
I need more in my life to happen, more in my life to talk about.
I have two roomates, Amy and Dana. I work at Red Robin and occasionally in the box office in Center for the Arts at Towson - the college I attend. I am an art major, specifically digital art and design. Then what? I have a messy room. I enjoy photography and most everything that comes with it unless I am required to relate it to photography. I could talk about boys. And I suppose that would be interesting. It really would. I have a great deal of gossip in my life relating to boys. And yet, that is the one thing I am reluctant, or rather uninterested in discussing. Boys equal major drama for me. I miss when boys just equaled best friends or cute little crushes that I could blush about or get butterflies from. When and why did life get so complicated.
I miss black and white composition books that were special diaries between friends. I miss school dances and getting excited about having a boys arms around your waist. I miss dodgeball, mandatory push ups, and gymnastics on the school mats even. Homework on cheesey worksheets, afterschool clubs, mountainview diner, new addidas sneakers, paper football, hallway card games, and thinking you were cool wondering the hallways without a hall pass. Where have the days gone where those simple childish delights mattered.
And now we live in a world with two huge tests which determines whether you pass or fail a thousand dollar course. Worrying not just if he thinks your cute, but rather if he thinks your cute and may be using you just to get some action. Or trying to fit homework, studying, friends and work in, all in one day much less one week. No longer can we or do we spend an hour gossiping on the phone, but it's come to spending one second texting, not even talking, to communicate with people who are supposed to be your closest friends.
Maybe I do have things to talk about, I just don't have to think about it. I miss the days where I didn't understand the lyrics to Lips of an Angel by Hinder, but only thought I did.
I need more in my life to happen, more in my life to talk about.
I have two roomates, Amy and Dana. I work at Red Robin and occasionally in the box office in Center for the Arts at Towson - the college I attend. I am an art major, specifically digital art and design. Then what? I have a messy room. I enjoy photography and most everything that comes with it unless I am required to relate it to photography. I could talk about boys. And I suppose that would be interesting. It really would. I have a great deal of gossip in my life relating to boys. And yet, that is the one thing I am reluctant, or rather uninterested in discussing. Boys equal major drama for me. I miss when boys just equaled best friends or cute little crushes that I could blush about or get butterflies from. When and why did life get so complicated.
I miss black and white composition books that were special diaries between friends. I miss school dances and getting excited about having a boys arms around your waist. I miss dodgeball, mandatory push ups, and gymnastics on the school mats even. Homework on cheesey worksheets, afterschool clubs, mountainview diner, new addidas sneakers, paper football, hallway card games, and thinking you were cool wondering the hallways without a hall pass. Where have the days gone where those simple childish delights mattered.
And now we live in a world with two huge tests which determines whether you pass or fail a thousand dollar course. Worrying not just if he thinks your cute, but rather if he thinks your cute and may be using you just to get some action. Or trying to fit homework, studying, friends and work in, all in one day much less one week. No longer can we or do we spend an hour gossiping on the phone, but it's come to spending one second texting, not even talking, to communicate with people who are supposed to be your closest friends.
Maybe I do have things to talk about, I just don't have to think about it. I miss the days where I didn't understand the lyrics to Lips of an Angel by Hinder, but only thought I did.