Try not to wonder where you are
Dear Diary,
I feel so... mixed up. I've been such a recluse for the past few days, staying closed up in my room, just reading, napping, painting, internetting, and occassionally leaving the comfines of my decorated woodpanel walls when nature calls, or I'm hungry.
I wish I was more excited about moving back to school. I wish I was more excited about... anything these days. I know that I don't want to be here anymore, but I don't really want to be there either. I do, however, like my room. It's quiet, dark, and I'm alone. I'm so obsessed with my future that I can't settle for the present. All I can see is an apartment next summer, and after that, Boston, NYC, and Santa Monica. All I can see is running an art gallery, publishing a book, and cutting hair. I can't see this August, I can't see these classes, I can't see the bills, I can't see getting another job in retail.
I've been battling with insomnia recently. Last night I laid down at 3:30, and kept checking my clock up until 5:45. I guess I fell asleep sometime after that. I couldn't help but roll around and around and around, and think to myself, "what if I never fell asleep?" Sometimes when I can't sleep, I wonder if he looks out his bedroom window at the moon when I do, letting the light spill in over his bed, bouncing off walls. Or if thinks about me when I think about him.
Anaïs Mitchell is my new love. Her music is beautiful.
That is all for now.
Love,
Me
I feel so... mixed up. I've been such a recluse for the past few days, staying closed up in my room, just reading, napping, painting, internetting, and occassionally leaving the comfines of my decorated woodpanel walls when nature calls, or I'm hungry.
I wish I was more excited about moving back to school. I wish I was more excited about... anything these days. I know that I don't want to be here anymore, but I don't really want to be there either. I do, however, like my room. It's quiet, dark, and I'm alone. I'm so obsessed with my future that I can't settle for the present. All I can see is an apartment next summer, and after that, Boston, NYC, and Santa Monica. All I can see is running an art gallery, publishing a book, and cutting hair. I can't see this August, I can't see these classes, I can't see the bills, I can't see getting another job in retail.
I've been battling with insomnia recently. Last night I laid down at 3:30, and kept checking my clock up until 5:45. I guess I fell asleep sometime after that. I couldn't help but roll around and around and around, and think to myself, "what if I never fell asleep?" Sometimes when I can't sleep, I wonder if he looks out his bedroom window at the moon when I do, letting the light spill in over his bed, bouncing off walls. Or if thinks about me when I think about him.
Anaïs Mitchell is my new love. Her music is beautiful.
That is all for now.
Love,
Me