(no subject)
I find that my life often balances itself out. I don't necessarily mean how I often find myself getting out of tough scrapes mostly unharmed, though I do have a tendency for that. I mean that at any given time, I have a certain amount of happiness and a certain amount of anxiety and I find that they balance themselves. At least, that's what helps me sleep at night. My classes are often such that I love and do well in some, and loathe and do poorly in others. Not so much lately, as I love all of my classes this semester, but it seems to be going on an assignment-to-assignment basis. I'm rocketting through my animation stuff, sucking in 20th Century Art History with minimal, well, sucking, and just found I was on the Dean's List for last semester. Rad. On the other hand, I have an Ethics debate to do in a week that I have yet to contact my partner about, a Praxis project which I have yet to contact ANYONE about (Though, I find solace in the fact that no one else I've talked to has either) and I find myself falling short of my Web Design class, not because of a lack of talent or understanding, but rather because the professor doesn't set deadlines and I need deadlines for structure. It's not just school either. The same pattern seems to hold up as my life, slowly and methodically, arcs its course like the sun moving across the sky. At least it's not high noon; I can't afford a mid-life crisis. So here I sit in an excellent art school doing what I love, free to make my own decisions despite the undying support of my parents, with good health, plentiful coffee, and a car that's as close to my dreams as I could ever hope to have at this age. And through none of it have I ever needed to work a day in my life for though, of course, did anyway. I never thought about how my life would have to balance itself it. I feel like it may be in the works right now. It's been in the works for the past 6 years, looping and undulating just to keep my guessing.
For every action there is an equal, but opposite, reaction. Mankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. There is no up without down, no black without white, and no good without evil.
And to think that my evil has been so good to me for 21 short years.
I can't sleep. The undead are stalking me. I can feel the cool, clammy flesh sliding loosely over bone. They surround me. They reach and grab and snatch like starving dogs to a scrap. They know only hunger. I can feel them inside me. I can feel my joints stretch, ligaments snapping like rubber bands as they pull. They seperate my skin like saran wrap, devour my organs, and I know only shrieking, horrifying anguish. I scream.
Except there's no scream.
Only the gratifying hum of my space heater.
And I try to sleep.
For every action there is an equal, but opposite, reaction. Mankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. There is no up without down, no black without white, and no good without evil.
And to think that my evil has been so good to me for 21 short years.
I can't sleep. The undead are stalking me. I can feel the cool, clammy flesh sliding loosely over bone. They surround me. They reach and grab and snatch like starving dogs to a scrap. They know only hunger. I can feel them inside me. I can feel my joints stretch, ligaments snapping like rubber bands as they pull. They seperate my skin like saran wrap, devour my organs, and I know only shrieking, horrifying anguish. I scream.
Except there's no scream.
Only the gratifying hum of my space heater.
And I try to sleep.