"i know it's not a party if it happens every night"
"this place is a prision
these people aren't your friends"
this is not me
this is not me
That's what i wrote monday morning in my sketchbook durning my life drawing class. (The first step: denial.) I was drawing from a new, awesome model. The sketch was coming out pretty good, my teacher came by to say this was already turning out to be one of my strongest peices, then i hit a wall. i just hated the peice, i couldn't even work on it anymore. I just sat down and stared at my easel for the rest of the pose. I thought the 10 min break would be good for me. But when it came back to drawing i still felt as stuck as ever. My professor came over and asked what was wrong. i told her i hated my peice. she said it was very good, that i'm not using dark heavy marks that look like scars that i was using before. she suggested trying to work on this or that. i said again that i hated it. that it felt flat, that despite it looking like i understand the form, i'm just drawing what's in front of me. she said to keep working on it. i stared at the model hoping inspiration would come. it didn't. i felt tears well up in my eyes just as they are now. i felt frustrationg boil in me. i felt hate for everyone around me. but over all i felt and overwhelming saddness. i had the strongest urge to just kick over my easle, to scrawl obsenities all over it with my fat red paint marker. but i didn't have my marker with me. and for my old homies you know my whole not being able to destroy shit. to my new homies i have this supressed, turned-inwards anger problem most likely caused by emotionally opressive mother (or at least according to my old shrink). and yeah that's why i couldn't even kick over an easal.
later that day i heard there would be snow, plans were made to go sledding with school being canceled. and stuff seemed to get better. and then they did. i met this kid Nolan who i watched play piano for over 1/2 hour without him knowing. then i got to tell him how beautiful i thought he was playing there with normally full classroom chairs, lined up by crooked green tabels, now empty, with me sitting on a table, watching him silently so i wouldn't disturb an artist at work, his shockingly white hat like a halo. then he noticed me and we talked.
the rest of the night was filled with the typicals of the nights at UMD.
tuesday morning- went to my 9:30 sociology class, obviously no snow. well there was snow, just not enough to cancel school over. i started to feel sick in class so i went down to the bathroom and threw up, then tried to calm down. i headed back to class and spilt my cup of hot chocolate as soon as i got back. went back to the bathroom to get paper towels to clean it up. then when i headed back towards the dorms i didn't sit around the benches cuz i had no hot choclate to drink.
i went to my dorm, chilled, back to the campus center to pick up paint and a canvas. then back to my dorm and i painted for 4 hours which felt awesome. then to colloq.
the first thing Bruce did was announce bad news. the one class i really want to take next semster 2D Workshops-Photography is cancelled and replaced with painting. what... the... fuck! i really don't want to stay here, now i have no reason to, next semseter is looking as drab as the first. but on the flip side i really don't want to leave. don't get me wrong, this place prob isn't good for me. but i like the people. i get sick of this place on too regular of a basis. i always feel when i leave campus i'm ESCAPING. it shouldn't be like that, i should feel home, not trapped. the academics aren't stimualting. most of the kids here have awful attitudes about drugs. everytime i start to feel close to someone, they pull away... or i pull away. whatever the case, too much is wrong for me to stay here. but Cory did say i should learn to adapt or i'll never be happy where i am.
fuck. iloveyouguysireallydothisisjustsohardonme. a big thank you to any and all of my friends who continue to put up with my bullshit and rambeling online journal entries. i keep fighting in the hopes you'll be proud. in the hopes if i'm still around i can still see you smile and sometimes make you smile. i'm upset now, but i'll be fine. it normally works out that way.
i love you. i love you. i love you. keep me safe?
"This place is a prison
And these people aren't your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
And again.
Ther're guards at the on ramps armed to the teeth
And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound,
But you are not permitted to leave
I know there's a big world out there like the one i saw on the screen
In my living room late last night,
It was almost too bright to see
And i know that it's not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there's glamour and candelabra
When you're drinking by candlelight
What does it take to get a drink in this place?
What does it take, how long must i wait?"
-The Postal Service
these people aren't your friends"
this is not me
this is not me
That's what i wrote monday morning in my sketchbook durning my life drawing class. (The first step: denial.) I was drawing from a new, awesome model. The sketch was coming out pretty good, my teacher came by to say this was already turning out to be one of my strongest peices, then i hit a wall. i just hated the peice, i couldn't even work on it anymore. I just sat down and stared at my easel for the rest of the pose. I thought the 10 min break would be good for me. But when it came back to drawing i still felt as stuck as ever. My professor came over and asked what was wrong. i told her i hated my peice. she said it was very good, that i'm not using dark heavy marks that look like scars that i was using before. she suggested trying to work on this or that. i said again that i hated it. that it felt flat, that despite it looking like i understand the form, i'm just drawing what's in front of me. she said to keep working on it. i stared at the model hoping inspiration would come. it didn't. i felt tears well up in my eyes just as they are now. i felt frustrationg boil in me. i felt hate for everyone around me. but over all i felt and overwhelming saddness. i had the strongest urge to just kick over my easle, to scrawl obsenities all over it with my fat red paint marker. but i didn't have my marker with me. and for my old homies you know my whole not being able to destroy shit. to my new homies i have this supressed, turned-inwards anger problem most likely caused by emotionally opressive mother (or at least according to my old shrink). and yeah that's why i couldn't even kick over an easal.
later that day i heard there would be snow, plans were made to go sledding with school being canceled. and stuff seemed to get better. and then they did. i met this kid Nolan who i watched play piano for over 1/2 hour without him knowing. then i got to tell him how beautiful i thought he was playing there with normally full classroom chairs, lined up by crooked green tabels, now empty, with me sitting on a table, watching him silently so i wouldn't disturb an artist at work, his shockingly white hat like a halo. then he noticed me and we talked.
the rest of the night was filled with the typicals of the nights at UMD.
tuesday morning- went to my 9:30 sociology class, obviously no snow. well there was snow, just not enough to cancel school over. i started to feel sick in class so i went down to the bathroom and threw up, then tried to calm down. i headed back to class and spilt my cup of hot chocolate as soon as i got back. went back to the bathroom to get paper towels to clean it up. then when i headed back towards the dorms i didn't sit around the benches cuz i had no hot choclate to drink.
i went to my dorm, chilled, back to the campus center to pick up paint and a canvas. then back to my dorm and i painted for 4 hours which felt awesome. then to colloq.
the first thing Bruce did was announce bad news. the one class i really want to take next semster 2D Workshops-Photography is cancelled and replaced with painting. what... the... fuck! i really don't want to stay here, now i have no reason to, next semseter is looking as drab as the first. but on the flip side i really don't want to leave. don't get me wrong, this place prob isn't good for me. but i like the people. i get sick of this place on too regular of a basis. i always feel when i leave campus i'm ESCAPING. it shouldn't be like that, i should feel home, not trapped. the academics aren't stimualting. most of the kids here have awful attitudes about drugs. everytime i start to feel close to someone, they pull away... or i pull away. whatever the case, too much is wrong for me to stay here. but Cory did say i should learn to adapt or i'll never be happy where i am.
fuck. iloveyouguysireallydothisisjustsohardonme. a big thank you to any and all of my friends who continue to put up with my bullshit and rambeling online journal entries. i keep fighting in the hopes you'll be proud. in the hopes if i'm still around i can still see you smile and sometimes make you smile. i'm upset now, but i'll be fine. it normally works out that way.
i love you. i love you. i love you. keep me safe?
"This place is a prison
And these people aren't your friends
Inhaling thrills through $20 bills
And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
And again.
Ther're guards at the on ramps armed to the teeth
And you may case the grounds from the cascades to puget sound,
But you are not permitted to leave
I know there's a big world out there like the one i saw on the screen
In my living room late last night,
It was almost too bright to see
And i know that it's not a party if it happens every night
Pretending there's glamour and candelabra
When you're drinking by candlelight
What does it take to get a drink in this place?
What does it take, how long must i wait?"
-The Postal Service