oh no she didn't.
yeah i haven't updated in a while. but i need to get some dirt off my shoulders.
this semester has been a period of intense self-introspection. the past month, specifically i've taken everything down a notch. i've been much more reserved, much more private, much more observant of the world around me. this whole college thing, man it's a trip.
if this were a published piece of literature, and i a respected author, and you, my loyal audience, were a high school english class dissecting this piece, i'd say the theme is disappoinment.
you'd have trouble pinpointed the rising action, but take note of the multiple climaxes (and extreme lack of multiple orgasms) and interpret this particular piece as the falling action.
for some time, i got myself so worked up over the stupidest things. high school i obsessed about boys. after that one horrendous relationship i realized i wouldn't want any others so i just gave up on that. however, to everything turn, turn, turn, and in college i find myself obsessing over friendships. old ones, new ones, home ones, colleges ones, all sorts. what i've observed is an incredible imbalance.
the old ones, they are perfect. the people that have known me inside and out and loved me throughout the years through everything...i could never arrange the right words to express my gratitude. the new ones are exciting and fun, and i'm happy with them. they're cushioned by an aura of optimism, that i've finally found my niche. we'll see.
other friendships...on the whole, they all can be cast under this umbrella of just plain disappointment. for my english class audience, the metaphor i'll use here is that of the ocean. so i'm the ocean. let's say i'm surf city in the summer and the sky hovering above me is blue with nakedness. i'm so fun, i'm pretty, i hold your interest. i always give you a good time. you however, want to go to the city, you want more more more. i get stormy, i get cloudy, you run indoors and leave me to my brooding. the city is intoxicating with its bright lights and exagerrated stories of decent times. you spend so much time in the city you forget how to swim. but the city holds your interest. you forget about me until it's too hot for the city. you know i'll always be here, i feel as if i have no say, best friends means...well, best friends means. for a few months we are the best of friends, the rest of the year i'm only in your memory.
i feel dried up now, no pun intended. it's a bit true. overdramatic? no. honest? blunt? yeah. i'm at the point in my life where i've realized exactly who i am, just because you haven't and you feel the need to dissect me and think i'm the one who's crazy, well, screw you.
to me, friendships can be such cop outs. the sincerity is gone, replaced with some bullshit substitute. i can play that card, i can play it well. but christ, call my bluff.
questions to consider:
1. do you think this piece is more fiction or autobiographical? why?
2. do you think this piece was written for someone specifically? why or why not?
3. do you think this piece was written with you in mind? explain.
peace out, suckas.
this semester has been a period of intense self-introspection. the past month, specifically i've taken everything down a notch. i've been much more reserved, much more private, much more observant of the world around me. this whole college thing, man it's a trip.
if this were a published piece of literature, and i a respected author, and you, my loyal audience, were a high school english class dissecting this piece, i'd say the theme is disappoinment.
you'd have trouble pinpointed the rising action, but take note of the multiple climaxes (and extreme lack of multiple orgasms) and interpret this particular piece as the falling action.
for some time, i got myself so worked up over the stupidest things. high school i obsessed about boys. after that one horrendous relationship i realized i wouldn't want any others so i just gave up on that. however, to everything turn, turn, turn, and in college i find myself obsessing over friendships. old ones, new ones, home ones, colleges ones, all sorts. what i've observed is an incredible imbalance.
the old ones, they are perfect. the people that have known me inside and out and loved me throughout the years through everything...i could never arrange the right words to express my gratitude. the new ones are exciting and fun, and i'm happy with them. they're cushioned by an aura of optimism, that i've finally found my niche. we'll see.
other friendships...on the whole, they all can be cast under this umbrella of just plain disappointment. for my english class audience, the metaphor i'll use here is that of the ocean. so i'm the ocean. let's say i'm surf city in the summer and the sky hovering above me is blue with nakedness. i'm so fun, i'm pretty, i hold your interest. i always give you a good time. you however, want to go to the city, you want more more more. i get stormy, i get cloudy, you run indoors and leave me to my brooding. the city is intoxicating with its bright lights and exagerrated stories of decent times. you spend so much time in the city you forget how to swim. but the city holds your interest. you forget about me until it's too hot for the city. you know i'll always be here, i feel as if i have no say, best friends means...well, best friends means. for a few months we are the best of friends, the rest of the year i'm only in your memory.
i feel dried up now, no pun intended. it's a bit true. overdramatic? no. honest? blunt? yeah. i'm at the point in my life where i've realized exactly who i am, just because you haven't and you feel the need to dissect me and think i'm the one who's crazy, well, screw you.
to me, friendships can be such cop outs. the sincerity is gone, replaced with some bullshit substitute. i can play that card, i can play it well. but christ, call my bluff.
questions to consider:
1. do you think this piece is more fiction or autobiographical? why?
2. do you think this piece was written for someone specifically? why or why not?
3. do you think this piece was written with you in mind? explain.
peace out, suckas.