Journal # 23- Snowballing
i'm actually going to update.
and i wonder, who can i paint myself as today?
it's snowing. it's blowing. this morning i dreamt that my boyfriend was rich. we ran to his high rise apartment, down the hall and we were throwing our coats and mittens off. leaving a strewn pile of winter necessity. it was spring inside those walls. i took off my shirt and reached the door and his family stood there, waiting inside. shock on their faces. disgust. and i started to cry.
it's been bloody cold outside. i woke up to my mom shoveling as i sit inside typing on a computer. i hardly use the computer anymore. this film camp i'm applying for asked me, what's my astrological sign. what's my favorite 'rock band/musical group'. which artist do i admire most? i really surprised myself to say, i didn't know.
last night i repeatedly flashed my boyfriend as he brushed snow off his car. my white skin didn't feel the freezing rush. it felt warmly defiant. i am chrystally akin to the cold, breezing my blush on the fiery snow.
i feel thin. i've been taking care of myself. my body takes shape. i feel smart. i got straight A's, so pat me on the head. i feel artistic. everyone loved my film. they steal copies of it. i feel priveleg i wll go t film cllege. i wil succee i eel stran...
thinking about people and how i'm not there in their lives. sad to think of. shudder to think of their sadness. feel myself wanting to make them happy. hoping that they will be. strange. strangest of all how i care.
what can humanity do for itself? huh?
i noticed that 'concerned' isn't an option on livejournal's choice of feelings.
i have to go write my essay about my favorite artist now. tell them what i really think.
my mother just called me obsessive.
(but doesn't everyone who's successful have to be obsessively driven?)
i'll tell them that my favorite artist is me. that i'm a fat bloated pig. that i'm ridiculously confident. that i'm obsessed with myself. that i'm loving every fucking minute. and i'm fucking harder than anyone else. so accept me, because everyone else already has.
and i wonder, who can i paint myself as today?
it's snowing. it's blowing. this morning i dreamt that my boyfriend was rich. we ran to his high rise apartment, down the hall and we were throwing our coats and mittens off. leaving a strewn pile of winter necessity. it was spring inside those walls. i took off my shirt and reached the door and his family stood there, waiting inside. shock on their faces. disgust. and i started to cry.
it's been bloody cold outside. i woke up to my mom shoveling as i sit inside typing on a computer. i hardly use the computer anymore. this film camp i'm applying for asked me, what's my astrological sign. what's my favorite 'rock band/musical group'. which artist do i admire most? i really surprised myself to say, i didn't know.
last night i repeatedly flashed my boyfriend as he brushed snow off his car. my white skin didn't feel the freezing rush. it felt warmly defiant. i am chrystally akin to the cold, breezing my blush on the fiery snow.
i feel thin. i've been taking care of myself. my body takes shape. i feel smart. i got straight A's, so pat me on the head. i feel artistic. everyone loved my film. they steal copies of it. i feel priveleg i wll go t film cllege. i wil succee i eel stran...
thinking about people and how i'm not there in their lives. sad to think of. shudder to think of their sadness. feel myself wanting to make them happy. hoping that they will be. strange. strangest of all how i care.
what can humanity do for itself? huh?
i noticed that 'concerned' isn't an option on livejournal's choice of feelings.
i have to go write my essay about my favorite artist now. tell them what i really think.
my mother just called me obsessive.
(but doesn't everyone who's successful have to be obsessively driven?)
i'll tell them that my favorite artist is me. that i'm a fat bloated pig. that i'm ridiculously confident. that i'm obsessed with myself. that i'm loving every fucking minute. and i'm fucking harder than anyone else. so accept me, because everyone else already has.