Money, money, money and bit of sense.
Spending money...it's not something I used to do that much. I could let the cash in my wallet gather up and wait for an emergency (like a birthday or the 8th of March). Nowadays, however, it's flying so fast that I can barely keep 40 dollars saved up. Presumably, part of it is my plan to become a better person in general. To be a better person, you have to fix your flaws--which requires spending money. Not a lot all at once, but it goes quite quickly.
First, come the girly products which I have avoided for a good portion of my teen years. Sadly, I don't even mean make-up as I can filch that from my mum without issues. I mean the nice perfumes, the exasperating moisturizers and countless other products that I seem to lack.
Second, comes the exercising stuff. To run, you have to have good shoes. And shorts. And shirts that aren't see-through. To do yoga, you have to make sure that the goddamn laundry is working, otherwise you're screwed.
Third, comes the food. Before, money slipped through my fingers because of my addiction to sugar. To be fair, it's hard not to be. Hell, I even failed during my second detox week. Supermarket aisles are filled with things that are bad with you, but marketed so well that you can't help crave them. Friends always go to cheap places to eat, where healthy food is the last thing on anyone's mind. Worst of all? Fruits and veggies are expensive as fuck. The only thing that's cheap is oatmeal, and I don't know anyone who can stomach that unless they're on starvation mode.
Fourth, comes the drawing equipment. My god, I love sketchbooks. I love them. I love the white pages, the feel of pride that you get when you know you're done with one. The goddamn smell, which has no hint of nasty ink or poisonous lead. Then, the first few pages are created with such care, and such hope, that the artistic spirit is lifted into the realm where it should always remain (yet rarely does so).
To make this poverty of mine worse, I have accumulated sense and desire when I really shouldn't.
The sense has to do with the realization that I am friendless. Or near friendless. (STOP READING THIS, it's boring, ranty and not nearly as fun as the wolf song. Click that instead!) It's nearly entirely my fault, but now that I'm trying to fix things, it seems as if it is too late. I'm split between a few social groups and the people I love to converse with the most are either busy or avoiding me. The ones who I'm left with are funny and charming in their own way, but know little about me and probably wouldn't understand even if I told them. (seriously, fucking stop) I'm not even talking about orientations or anything as pathetic as that. It's just the difference we have when we look at the world or our own pasts. If I told anyone about how my father died, or how my parents fought over custody and involved the mafia, it's a cool story, but they wouldn't really understand. And understanding is much more precious than empathy in my book, because it is simply that much more rare. But whatever, I'll take what I can get, because everyone's worth something-- it's just that you actually have to look to see it.
The desire, is all about what I want to do. (See: boring. Go listen to the wolf song) Perhaps it is senior year striking me in the gut, or maybe a few too many years stuck in one place, but I want freedom and experiences. I want to be a model and travel the world (whether those two things are connected makes no difference to me). Yet, as an artist, I can see every flaw and I can magnify it. As a traveler, I am limited to only walking around at night and feeling the potential of the hour. A potential which I cannot access at the moment because of fear and unfortunate circumstance.
Let the romantic in me not be mentioned in all of this, lest I let out a roar of pain and fury. Why can't I just be happy alone, goddamnit? I'll get some friends, sure, but why do I want fucking romance, too? Fuck's sake. You're such a wanker Baz Luhrman. This disaster is your fault!
And now, for some entertainment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Zsnw6yxH2o
Makes me want to howl, like I did as a kid. And it'd probably sound realistic because I have a cough and my voice sounds strange.