everywhere i go, damn, there i am.
i was going to wait until after i took my permit test to make an update. but seeing as though mom has cancelled on me for the third time this week, i suppose i'll make one now. my creative juices aren't exactly flowing but i feel the need to stretch my legs, so to speak.
i have been writing a lot of crappy poetry lately, and i guess that is the plague of all teenage writers. but i don't even know if i have the self-respect to call myself a writer. i'd post some stuff in here, but the overabundance of poetry in livejournals is getting to be a pain in the butt, especially when i can't even find a community with decent writers. that's not fair of me to say. i can't even find a community with writers who spark my interest. i do however, find alot of dark, depressing, and cliche poetry - the kind i used to write in eighth grade when i cut myself [like every other kid in america.] it wasn't worth it at all, and can easily be recognized as a desperate cry for attention. oh god help me, i live in a beautiful house and have a wonderful loving family, SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME! WHY AM I SO DEPRESSED!?
we are all hungry for the spotlight but the question that should be asked is how well will we actually handle it? i've found that being popular is quite the bore, and that the only real purpose for raising your hand in class is so that the teacher will grow fond of you and your 'smarts'. this way, you can get over on them.
my english teacher this year was an emaciated, high pitched woman who called me "honey" and referred to the class as "kiddies." this sort of patronizing nature bugged alot of kids, mainly the ones you see making drug deals in the bathroom during lunch. but i found her to be a very interesting creature. despite her fairly frightening likeness to a starving african child, she was very pleasant. but i am told that i'm the only one who thinks so. i maintained a ninety eight in her class all year and barely showed up, then got a one hundred on the final, but i really think she just cheated for me. my essays were terrible. i don't know why she took a liking to me at all, but i'm not going to question it. i repeatedly cut her class, feigning a headache or just not going. i spent the time in the bandroom flirting with an egotistical bassist until the end of january when we started dating, and then spent until mid february kissing him and receiving dirty looks from the other girls. they all played clarinet and were just sour because they really wanted to play the flute, or at least that's my reasoning. my boyfriend also happened to be the most attractive boy in the school, how i ended up with him i'll never know. this certain bassist arrived at my house on valentine's day with a wonderful hallmark card, complete with a rose on front and the words "i want to make this day and every day special for you."
he succeeded in doing so by breaking up with me twenty minutes later. this should have probably been a sign for me to turn to women, but i don't seem to be having any problems with my current male friend. the bassist has still not given me a reason for why he broke up with me. i was depressed about it for two months and then became distracted again. i am choosing to believe that he is completely gay, instead of bisexual as he told me he was.
i should have known never to get involved with a musician.
but it all turned out well and dandy and here i am. how did this post get so off topic? just kidding, there never was a set topic. cheers.
i have been writing a lot of crappy poetry lately, and i guess that is the plague of all teenage writers. but i don't even know if i have the self-respect to call myself a writer. i'd post some stuff in here, but the overabundance of poetry in livejournals is getting to be a pain in the butt, especially when i can't even find a community with decent writers. that's not fair of me to say. i can't even find a community with writers who spark my interest. i do however, find alot of dark, depressing, and cliche poetry - the kind i used to write in eighth grade when i cut myself [like every other kid in america.] it wasn't worth it at all, and can easily be recognized as a desperate cry for attention. oh god help me, i live in a beautiful house and have a wonderful loving family, SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME! WHY AM I SO DEPRESSED!?
we are all hungry for the spotlight but the question that should be asked is how well will we actually handle it? i've found that being popular is quite the bore, and that the only real purpose for raising your hand in class is so that the teacher will grow fond of you and your 'smarts'. this way, you can get over on them.
my english teacher this year was an emaciated, high pitched woman who called me "honey" and referred to the class as "kiddies." this sort of patronizing nature bugged alot of kids, mainly the ones you see making drug deals in the bathroom during lunch. but i found her to be a very interesting creature. despite her fairly frightening likeness to a starving african child, she was very pleasant. but i am told that i'm the only one who thinks so. i maintained a ninety eight in her class all year and barely showed up, then got a one hundred on the final, but i really think she just cheated for me. my essays were terrible. i don't know why she took a liking to me at all, but i'm not going to question it. i repeatedly cut her class, feigning a headache or just not going. i spent the time in the bandroom flirting with an egotistical bassist until the end of january when we started dating, and then spent until mid february kissing him and receiving dirty looks from the other girls. they all played clarinet and were just sour because they really wanted to play the flute, or at least that's my reasoning. my boyfriend also happened to be the most attractive boy in the school, how i ended up with him i'll never know. this certain bassist arrived at my house on valentine's day with a wonderful hallmark card, complete with a rose on front and the words "i want to make this day and every day special for you."
he succeeded in doing so by breaking up with me twenty minutes later. this should have probably been a sign for me to turn to women, but i don't seem to be having any problems with my current male friend. the bassist has still not given me a reason for why he broke up with me. i was depressed about it for two months and then became distracted again. i am choosing to believe that he is completely gay, instead of bisexual as he told me he was.
i should have known never to get involved with a musician.
but it all turned out well and dandy and here i am. how did this post get so off topic? just kidding, there never was a set topic. cheers.