We got worries.
The subject line of this entry is the same as my last, but hopefully very few of you saw it or took notice of any of its meaning, (or lack there of.)
We got worries...but none too messy.
I dont really do all that much at school, when you splice it up and look at it in type. I work, a lot...homework, schoolwork, job work, workshop. I'm editing one of the Brandeis litmags, (because once a litmagger always a litmagger...fattitude to the max...) and it's actually extremely rewarding..there's a lot of talent in our little club. Mostly solid fiction writers, but a few new freshman who have poetic promise and one who is probably the funniest writer ever in my life. I know, you all care. what else do i do...i dont even know. i tap dance my face off. and i love it. and i am a giant dork. this is something i am not too worried about...yet.
We got worries?
do we? i really like my classes this semester. I feel like, for maybe the first time, my schoolwork is starting to reflect some faint semblance of who i picture myself to be years from now. For the first time, i want to take it with me and keep it around so i can use it in the "real world," (of which I am more and more convinced everyday does not exist.) I mean, in middle school, they told us high school was the real world. WRONG. High school was all about college...the real world....WRONG AGAIN. so, this time I'm not counting my chickens...I feel like the next step might be just as much of a bubble. The only thing I can really foresee bursting this little notion I have of security is maybe having children...because when you become so totally responsible for the life of someone else, the "real world," (and all of its perils,) may come into play a bit more.
we got worries. what else do i do with my life in the present? i try to meet people everyday but it is hard. it is hard. the social powerhouse gene must have slid off my DNA or been plucked out by the buccoglossal syndrome*. i was much better at this when i was younger...but i am not sure why at all. I hope it does not get worse. There's a worry.
It's so so funny and so so true, that inside our bubbles which we have come to love so dear, and with our school and our friends and our dollars, we got worries. we got worries when we sleep and eat and wake and dream and google (told you i loved that shit.)
Im taking a painting class and I absolutely dont get it. art might be something i suck at. sometimes though you just got to boost the bass and take things for what they are.
im not worried.
love
joanna
ps.(here are some pictures beeeeeecause it wouldnt be livejournal without sappy attempts at poignancy at lots of camera whoring.)
*Buccoglossal syndrome is a nuerological illness affecting muscles in the body but most easily recognized by the temporary paralysis of the tongue and mouth and periodical loss of taste. It showed up two weekends ago and was diagnosed by the brilliant and most worrisome Brandeis health center a few days later. It is still here, loud and clear, but I don't got worries...this baby should go away on its own.
We got worries...but none too messy.
I dont really do all that much at school, when you splice it up and look at it in type. I work, a lot...homework, schoolwork, job work, workshop. I'm editing one of the Brandeis litmags, (because once a litmagger always a litmagger...fattitude to the max...) and it's actually extremely rewarding..there's a lot of talent in our little club. Mostly solid fiction writers, but a few new freshman who have poetic promise and one who is probably the funniest writer ever in my life. I know, you all care. what else do i do...i dont even know. i tap dance my face off. and i love it. and i am a giant dork. this is something i am not too worried about...yet.
We got worries?
do we? i really like my classes this semester. I feel like, for maybe the first time, my schoolwork is starting to reflect some faint semblance of who i picture myself to be years from now. For the first time, i want to take it with me and keep it around so i can use it in the "real world," (of which I am more and more convinced everyday does not exist.) I mean, in middle school, they told us high school was the real world. WRONG. High school was all about college...the real world....WRONG AGAIN. so, this time I'm not counting my chickens...I feel like the next step might be just as much of a bubble. The only thing I can really foresee bursting this little notion I have of security is maybe having children...because when you become so totally responsible for the life of someone else, the "real world," (and all of its perils,) may come into play a bit more.
we got worries. what else do i do with my life in the present? i try to meet people everyday but it is hard. it is hard. the social powerhouse gene must have slid off my DNA or been plucked out by the buccoglossal syndrome*. i was much better at this when i was younger...but i am not sure why at all. I hope it does not get worse. There's a worry.
It's so so funny and so so true, that inside our bubbles which we have come to love so dear, and with our school and our friends and our dollars, we got worries. we got worries when we sleep and eat and wake and dream and google (told you i loved that shit.)
Im taking a painting class and I absolutely dont get it. art might be something i suck at. sometimes though you just got to boost the bass and take things for what they are.
im not worried.
love
joanna
ps.(here are some pictures beeeeeecause it wouldnt be livejournal without sappy attempts at poignancy at lots of camera whoring.)
*Buccoglossal syndrome is a nuerological illness affecting muscles in the body but most easily recognized by the temporary paralysis of the tongue and mouth and periodical loss of taste. It showed up two weekends ago and was diagnosed by the brilliant and most worrisome Brandeis health center a few days later. It is still here, loud and clear, but I don't got worries...this baby should go away on its own.