I start thinking and the lightbulb goes off....Hmm...
I went out with Brandon again tonight. I need to develop the balls to tell him that I'm not interested in a relationship with him because I don't have even the slightest idea of where I stand in that. With Erik, with my emotions, with anything. I just need the freedom to deal with myself at the moment.
This morning I signed into Deviantart. I came to the realization that after my efforts to begin anew with my designing concepts, I have no inspiration nor anything to post. I saw all the drawings that I'd favorited. Nearly, if not all of them, were keyblades from when I was focused on my Kingdom Hearts web design that I had planned on developing into a online portfolio of sorts, displaying my abilities and knowledge of scripts, codes, and imagery. Yeah, that never happened.
I ended up browsing a page of a boy that was also fond of Kingdom Hearts. He had full-scale, accurately measured animated replicas of keyblades three dimensionally generated flawlessly. Flawlessly. I was astounded by his art. It was identical to the art that I'd been aspiring to draw for years. I checked out his page. He's twenty years old. My age. And he's creating designs, making these scaled 3D uncanny replicas of video game weapons that rival those of professionals and he's my age. This was both amazingly inspiring and horrifically depressing.
I walked outside for a cigarette and started thinking about where I was in life. I'm twenty years old and I have nothing save a GED to prove my worth. I live in Everett, 45 miles away from my hometown with no people who I can call legitimate friends (in the area (I know you were about to get defensive, Chris)), in an condominium that I pay absolutely nothing on, thanks to the grace and charity of my older brother and mother; I have no job; no money; no valid driver's license; and most of all, no motivation to save myself. I sit at home all day, clean the house on occasion, and smoke myself to death.
Halfway through my cigarette, the outside porch light shutoff. It was after 7am, and I figured that the complex had timers on the outside lights so that electricity wasn't wasted during the daylight hours (even though it's our bill). I chuckled to myself, thinking that this was just another one of those little things where you think "Yup...that just had to happen. Right now." After finishing and gulping down the two day old coffee that was left in the pot, I returned inside. Upon entering, I shutoff the outside light switch, thinking that otherwise the light would turn on once the timer allowed it to again. Wanna know an interesting twist? Turning the switch into the "off" position turned the outside porch light on! Which it's never done since I've lived here, until this morning. I don't even want to try to understand the physics of it until I get some sleep.
So, back to my train of thought. I sat down, contemplating on going out for a second cigarette, and my thoughts started racing...Maybe I can change it. Maybe I can get this job with Comcast. Maybe I can save my money, get my license back, go to school and fix everything that I've done so well to destroy.
I really hope I'm right. And I really hope that I can get through this without fucking up again. I've already been playing the scenario of calling Mom from a jailhouse phone explaining why I'm there and how much I need to make bail. I haven't driven my car, save once, since my suspension, but I will need it to travel to work, unless I get sympathy bus money from dear friends. Which I hope it doesn't come to. I really don't think anyone else understands the emotional stress I endure when I have to take money from them.
I need to think.
--
Kellyn
This morning I signed into Deviantart. I came to the realization that after my efforts to begin anew with my designing concepts, I have no inspiration nor anything to post. I saw all the drawings that I'd favorited. Nearly, if not all of them, were keyblades from when I was focused on my Kingdom Hearts web design that I had planned on developing into a online portfolio of sorts, displaying my abilities and knowledge of scripts, codes, and imagery. Yeah, that never happened.
I ended up browsing a page of a boy that was also fond of Kingdom Hearts. He had full-scale, accurately measured animated replicas of keyblades three dimensionally generated flawlessly. Flawlessly. I was astounded by his art. It was identical to the art that I'd been aspiring to draw for years. I checked out his page. He's twenty years old. My age. And he's creating designs, making these scaled 3D uncanny replicas of video game weapons that rival those of professionals and he's my age. This was both amazingly inspiring and horrifically depressing.
I walked outside for a cigarette and started thinking about where I was in life. I'm twenty years old and I have nothing save a GED to prove my worth. I live in Everett, 45 miles away from my hometown with no people who I can call legitimate friends (in the area (I know you were about to get defensive, Chris)), in an condominium that I pay absolutely nothing on, thanks to the grace and charity of my older brother and mother; I have no job; no money; no valid driver's license; and most of all, no motivation to save myself. I sit at home all day, clean the house on occasion, and smoke myself to death.
Halfway through my cigarette, the outside porch light shutoff. It was after 7am, and I figured that the complex had timers on the outside lights so that electricity wasn't wasted during the daylight hours (even though it's our bill). I chuckled to myself, thinking that this was just another one of those little things where you think "Yup...that just had to happen. Right now." After finishing and gulping down the two day old coffee that was left in the pot, I returned inside. Upon entering, I shutoff the outside light switch, thinking that otherwise the light would turn on once the timer allowed it to again. Wanna know an interesting twist? Turning the switch into the "off" position turned the outside porch light on! Which it's never done since I've lived here, until this morning. I don't even want to try to understand the physics of it until I get some sleep.
So, back to my train of thought. I sat down, contemplating on going out for a second cigarette, and my thoughts started racing...Maybe I can change it. Maybe I can get this job with Comcast. Maybe I can save my money, get my license back, go to school and fix everything that I've done so well to destroy.
I really hope I'm right. And I really hope that I can get through this without fucking up again. I've already been playing the scenario of calling Mom from a jailhouse phone explaining why I'm there and how much I need to make bail. I haven't driven my car, save once, since my suspension, but I will need it to travel to work, unless I get sympathy bus money from dear friends. Which I hope it doesn't come to. I really don't think anyone else understands the emotional stress I endure when I have to take money from them.
I need to think.
--
Kellyn