(no subject)
i can't sleep. i cannot sleep. today and the few days before and im sure i'll be more deciding about this in the future, but for now, i've been wasting away. i'm reading and watching and listening and trying to explain but nothing's really coming out. nothing is producing. i keep breaking records. i see your sister more than i see you and i miss you. i feel like bullshit when i'm trying to come to a conclusion. i can't come to a conclusion about certain things and end up lieing about others that i don't feel like agreeing with. earlier she talked to me and i felt what we were proclaiming was pretty fucking naive. i've decided that after reading one and a half of woman-self-exploration-and-freeing (See "The Awakening", see also "Jane Eyre") novels that AP English doesn't sound that interesting so i'm going to march down, well drive, but go down to that fucking office in that fucking school with those fucking mother fucking shitheads that don't pay attention because their paperwork is too boring and say, "I hate late 19th century early 20th century school recomended literature that my future teacher--who believes she should be a professor, but is really just a fraud to any kind of poetic or literature justice-- sucks and I want the fuck out, can you do that for me?" Then they'll say something like i have to go consult so and so, and it'll take longer because i'm fasting on cigarettes and green tea and macaroni and cheese and they're out on their fucking lunch break at some restaurant just bullshitting with eachother and farting and being high and mighty to their waiter that's just some other cliche college kid earning money to pay off his state school attending fee loan, and by the time they get back i'd have decided that i might as well go through with it because it's all boring anyways and i have more time, but with my lack of motivation and poor sentence structure skill i'll pay no attention to it. it's really fucking hot in my room and i'm sweating. i hate sweating, i really hate it. the birds are chirping outside. not really much to say, maybe it's a bluejay or a cardinal or a swan. now im talking out of my ass, and really this has no point to it, you have no point in reading this, you actually, you, the reader, my audience, of course you may not be what i asked for, my manifest of the voyeur audience i've made you up to be, which is really, quite funny and depressing, you, you have no right to read this as much as i have the right to be typing right now, and that's why i'm ready to just quit. i have no motivation and i really don't feel like telling anyone, or showing anyone, being any kind of teacher, since i lack any experience in what i might have to say, i mean, rigidly, it might be liquidy, but you know, well, oh well, yeah, oh you know. i need something to kill time with, and i've found most of it but i don't want to depend on that because i don't feel as if i need it, although i do want it sometimes, somethings just don't have the right to be boasting on and on in my thoughts. oh let me end and let me quit and let the paint bleed through and all this other bullshit you motherfuckers want from me, since i'm held in such high respect from you, since you don't know what to do right now so you're peering in, eavesdropping into my mislead excuse and schedule that i have to take up time with, this goes nowhere and all i want you to do is critique, you mother fuckers.