random babble...
I haven't done a random little babble about my life in a while...and even though nobody really reads this it doesn't matter. You don't write in blogs to have everyone read it and go "oh she's really rather happy about that isn't she?" And those who do are attention whores who need to be slapped.
It's not like I really care who reads whatever babble is about to ensue...whatever they take from it doesn't matter because some who know me will understand (or they won't??) and some will just look at it from a distance and wonder what the fuck I'm going on about.
Basically the past few months have just been a load of feces. I'd like to pinpoint it to one person but I can't make myself blame all my own emotional issues on one person even if they are a huge asshole because that is unfair. Most of my problems stem from my own mind... I can't seem to deal with my own thoughts. It's like in English class when you have to study characters who are going through "internal conflict" (to compare it to something completely random)
Some days would be like being on top of mount everest...I don't just get sorta happy I get manically happy...like something just explodes. I find certain people/things seem to spark some sort of lustrous happiness inside me....then the minute they disappear all my happiness dissolves and I start to sit and think WAY too much about things about my personality/surroundings that I dislike.
I feel the need to have something to concentrate on....because as long as I have something to concentrate on I can forget that I'm emotionally unstable and obsessive-compulsive.
I feel like everything is slipping away. By the end of this year everyone will be moving away....and some of them have already drifted away. Not to mention my gr. 12 year will be really easy academically so what am I going to do with all my spare time? Knit? Build a scale model of Thailand?
The end of my youth is coming up far too quickly for my liking. I used to want out so badly..and while yes..I don't want to be in school anymore I'm not emotionally ready to leave the social part of being a teenager behind. I could deal with not going to Stelly's anymore..but I couldn't deal with not spending time with my friends like I used to.
Right now all I really have to concentrate on is getting through grade 11 to my standards (which aren't really very high) and enjoying what I have around me.
I have found one thing that helps me concentrate..and that's acting. Pretending to be someone else in real life is seen as stupid...but pretending to be someone else in an art form is beautiful. I never really indulged in acting before last year as I was too shy to throw everything out there infront of people...but now it's the best thing I have discovered next to photography, horses, and my far-too-deep love for music. Pretending to be someone else for just a little while helps you forget about everything and just see things through someone else's eyes.
Everything in my life right now is temporary. I need to stop thinking so far ahead and worrying about what the fuck I'm going to do. Nobody knows exactly what they're going to do..that's why you try a little bit of everything until you find out.
Besides, everything we do when we're young is some sort of preparation for being old. "Preserve your future"...don't smoke or you'll get cancer...drink milk so your brittle bones wont shatter when you fall on the step. Pension Plans so you can take your arthritic bones to Hawaii when you can't handle the cold anymore. Whatever happened to living for today? I'd rather live the best teenaged life ever than have a secure, "happy" future as a senior citizen. What happens when I can't take a shit anymore or it becomes a chore to sit down in a chair?
In the kind of corrupt world we live in..I don't ever want to be old. I don't want to have to wear a full body cast to protect myself from skin cancer when the ozone layer is so depleted we're pratically being roasted like chickens. And technology is so advanced I will have automatic doors like in grocery stores leading to my bedroom.
Maybe I'm just restless and afraid of the "death on the stairs" existance.
"curtains drawn in the afternoon, baked beans and a fuzzy television" (thank you peter D and carlos B)
Or maybe I'm just cynical and when I'm 30 and starting to fade I will look forward to retirement.
Either way...the point is that life can be a choice as long as some freak accident doesn't prevent you from having that choice anymore..you can make it as long or as short as you want....and you can make it as good or as bad as you want.
And now that I've written a fucking novel...
Exeunt