Confusing Metaphors
Woke up at six...terrible shivers. The day greeted me with its blinding light, the wind attempting vigorously to cajole me into a better mood, but alas, it could do no good. I nearly fell asleep sitting, waiting, shaking, all in bitter anticipation for the Fat Man to open the band room for this sectional. The only thing that got me up was my iPod's switch from "Mein Herz Brennt" to "Margaritaville". He arrived nearly promptly at seven, so at least I could not hold that against him. I would say overall the sectional was time very well spent, except at a horrible time of day. And I still felt awful.
Latin was no better. Mrs. Thompson sent in a substitute, so though we did virtually nothing, we still had to be contained in the classroom, which meant people took advantage of the fact that they could speak loudly. Gave me a headache that still has yet to cease. Jazz band was repetitive and a general waste of time.
Lunch was actually decent. I went around with Paul and Aaron putting up fliers for JSA, Paul and I being the bearers of tape that we took from some egocentric who couldn't get enough of her name being on posters, but apparently wanted it taped all over the school as well. And for those of you who think that's wrong, if she put up a "campaign sign" with merely tape, that means she went over her poster limit, and the tape ads are unauthorized. But I don't feel I need to justify that any more. Anyways, we had some good laughs. I love how I can make Paul laugh so hard he cries, and like today, spit yogurt out, only making us laugh harder. Since his mum now works at our school, we had come up with a scenario of his two lovey-dovey parents working at the same school...and I'll spare you the details. But it was funny enough for projectile yogurt.
Math test...and since it was easier than breathing (with that sort of prideful attitude God's going to fail me :D), I had some time to start my drawing of my muse, which I'm sure you'll all not see :P. Then after the bell rang I meandered to where my mum picks me up instead of walking home, though I wish I had still walked, because it's such a nice day. I just figured that since I had only just eaten my first actual meal in three or so days, it wasn't a good idea.
I've been "under fire", so to speak, about my "mood". My mum had a clever and apt name for it but it escapes me at the moment. Regardless, yes, I am in a "mood". But when am I not? Is there not ALWAYS something bringing me down in one way or another, and shouldn't she be used to it by now? You might say she's just being a concerned parent, but I can only tell her so much, simply because the last time I told her what was really bothering me she sent me to a psychologist for six months; and every time I try to tell her something she says I'm being immature and over dramatic. Generally when one is in a bad mood they seek advice and comfort, not criticism and mocking. *sigh*
And as far as this mood goes, I think I've slipped past the overly emotional stages and landed myself in the numb, intensely irritable, and introverted phases. Evaluation after evaluation I continue to agree that I have overreacted to virtually everything, but even if I did, then what hurt so badly? One doesn't generally get thrown into a chaotic state of mind for no particular reason. And I forget that like the tide, circumstances are constantly changing, the old rifts in the sand being replaced and refined repetitively. And whether those changes are beneficial or hindering to myself, they are nonetheless progress that slowly shines through the clouds of doubt, revealing to me the greater good, though even that remains foggy to me.
So I hope that in the coming days time will heal whatever wounds I have inflicted upon my emotional tapestry woven within myself. And as these clouds of doubt are lifted, so too are revealed to me details upon details that have previously remained in the shadows of those clouds, and I only continue to see the bigger picture more clearly. Perhaps within this landscape a field, with all its homogeneously verdant details, will show itself to me, and perhaps even a clover of luck could be found and picked. And even when those clouds begin to return, there will this time be a shelter from the storm, and though not having the advantages of one made by man, will have within it the spirit of Mother Nature, nurturing and caring.
Latin was no better. Mrs. Thompson sent in a substitute, so though we did virtually nothing, we still had to be contained in the classroom, which meant people took advantage of the fact that they could speak loudly. Gave me a headache that still has yet to cease. Jazz band was repetitive and a general waste of time.
Lunch was actually decent. I went around with Paul and Aaron putting up fliers for JSA, Paul and I being the bearers of tape that we took from some egocentric who couldn't get enough of her name being on posters, but apparently wanted it taped all over the school as well. And for those of you who think that's wrong, if she put up a "campaign sign" with merely tape, that means she went over her poster limit, and the tape ads are unauthorized. But I don't feel I need to justify that any more. Anyways, we had some good laughs. I love how I can make Paul laugh so hard he cries, and like today, spit yogurt out, only making us laugh harder. Since his mum now works at our school, we had come up with a scenario of his two lovey-dovey parents working at the same school...and I'll spare you the details. But it was funny enough for projectile yogurt.
Math test...and since it was easier than breathing (with that sort of prideful attitude God's going to fail me :D), I had some time to start my drawing of my muse, which I'm sure you'll all not see :P. Then after the bell rang I meandered to where my mum picks me up instead of walking home, though I wish I had still walked, because it's such a nice day. I just figured that since I had only just eaten my first actual meal in three or so days, it wasn't a good idea.
I've been "under fire", so to speak, about my "mood". My mum had a clever and apt name for it but it escapes me at the moment. Regardless, yes, I am in a "mood". But when am I not? Is there not ALWAYS something bringing me down in one way or another, and shouldn't she be used to it by now? You might say she's just being a concerned parent, but I can only tell her so much, simply because the last time I told her what was really bothering me she sent me to a psychologist for six months; and every time I try to tell her something she says I'm being immature and over dramatic. Generally when one is in a bad mood they seek advice and comfort, not criticism and mocking. *sigh*
And as far as this mood goes, I think I've slipped past the overly emotional stages and landed myself in the numb, intensely irritable, and introverted phases. Evaluation after evaluation I continue to agree that I have overreacted to virtually everything, but even if I did, then what hurt so badly? One doesn't generally get thrown into a chaotic state of mind for no particular reason. And I forget that like the tide, circumstances are constantly changing, the old rifts in the sand being replaced and refined repetitively. And whether those changes are beneficial or hindering to myself, they are nonetheless progress that slowly shines through the clouds of doubt, revealing to me the greater good, though even that remains foggy to me.
So I hope that in the coming days time will heal whatever wounds I have inflicted upon my emotional tapestry woven within myself. And as these clouds of doubt are lifted, so too are revealed to me details upon details that have previously remained in the shadows of those clouds, and I only continue to see the bigger picture more clearly. Perhaps within this landscape a field, with all its homogeneously verdant details, will show itself to me, and perhaps even a clover of luck could be found and picked. And even when those clouds begin to return, there will this time be a shelter from the storm, and though not having the advantages of one made by man, will have within it the spirit of Mother Nature, nurturing and caring.