Alone in a Crowded Room
If someone tells me I look like my friends' mother one more time, my feelings are going to be so hurt I won't be able to take it any longer. I'm prompted to re-evaluate my style to fix the problem, but I don't think it would work. Perhaps what I think is "comfortable" other people find "old"? I mean, I thought I looked cute today...and still I got shot down. Talk about ouch.
This weekend my grandparents and father took me to get furniture for my room. When it comes in, I will finally be able to unpack all my belongings and have a space to call my own! I miss that more than most things right now. My mind is filled with ideas for my new space, and I'm convinced it's going to be the coolest thing ever. I can't waaaaaaaaaaiiiittt
I feel like my pyramid of needs is pretty primitive right now. But I've always been behind, haven't I? As I get older and turn into more of a freak with every passing day, I feel it exponentially as well. The imagination I could have been lacking is now working to make me feel worse and more lacking than I did before. As far as what I did have once but have lost, the sting of remorse is strengthened by the fear that I will never recover.
I am so proud of our collection of life, a.k.a. the facebook photo albums. We're doing such a better job of leaving no event undocumented! As I click through old albums and recall flickers of old emotions or scenes of past times, it saddens me to realize how much is forgotten. Eidetic memory must be the greatest gift and the greatest curse of all time. While the ability to remember every good experience and every bad seems like it would make everyday living more extreme in all directions, I think it would just be more miserable. And I don't think I'm the only one. Still, I love looking at old pictures.
Kyle told me tonight that he wasn't sorry for something that upset me. The thing was small, but what it meant to me was bigger. Anyways, I don't think Kyle's going to change his mind, so what does that mean? On a similar but totally different note: my mom's life essence, it is said, has been allowed to live and I am the culprit. It really is completely my fault, but I don't know how to fairly resolve the issue. Since I established the situation, how can I tactfully go back and correct it...best? So far I've concluded the only good way of going about things was presented as an opportunity that I kissed goodbye.
If women really are inferior, why the hell would I want to talk about it?! That's the most miserable thing I've ever heard!! Find me a tall building and I'll take it! I'm going to bed.
This weekend my grandparents and father took me to get furniture for my room. When it comes in, I will finally be able to unpack all my belongings and have a space to call my own! I miss that more than most things right now. My mind is filled with ideas for my new space, and I'm convinced it's going to be the coolest thing ever. I can't waaaaaaaaaaiiiittt
I feel like my pyramid of needs is pretty primitive right now. But I've always been behind, haven't I? As I get older and turn into more of a freak with every passing day, I feel it exponentially as well. The imagination I could have been lacking is now working to make me feel worse and more lacking than I did before. As far as what I did have once but have lost, the sting of remorse is strengthened by the fear that I will never recover.
I am so proud of our collection of life, a.k.a. the facebook photo albums. We're doing such a better job of leaving no event undocumented! As I click through old albums and recall flickers of old emotions or scenes of past times, it saddens me to realize how much is forgotten. Eidetic memory must be the greatest gift and the greatest curse of all time. While the ability to remember every good experience and every bad seems like it would make everyday living more extreme in all directions, I think it would just be more miserable. And I don't think I'm the only one. Still, I love looking at old pictures.
Kyle told me tonight that he wasn't sorry for something that upset me. The thing was small, but what it meant to me was bigger. Anyways, I don't think Kyle's going to change his mind, so what does that mean? On a similar but totally different note: my mom's life essence, it is said, has been allowed to live and I am the culprit. It really is completely my fault, but I don't know how to fairly resolve the issue. Since I established the situation, how can I tactfully go back and correct it...best? So far I've concluded the only good way of going about things was presented as an opportunity that I kissed goodbye.
If women really are inferior, why the hell would I want to talk about it?! That's the most miserable thing I've ever heard!! Find me a tall building and I'll take it! I'm going to bed.