Summer of '05
I realize what I said before about Lj and the Bj, but myspace sux for blogs. The only use I've found for it is... Well anyway.
School started for most people a week ago. Most of my friends (or something) started college monday. Many others went back to finish up the remaining year or so of high school. Most people have just up and left their old homes to begin a new way of life on their own... I however remained here. Although I am making progress in regestering at SCC and taking classes for my GED, I still feel as though things will never get better and things will never be the same. This summer, the few months between school years, everything and everyone I knew was only an illusion. Real truths hid behind a false portrats. Back then my life was no where near picture perfect, but the picture was still legiable. I knew everything in my life and what place it held. Things would never change. This was how my life was to unfold and these were the people that were to whitness it. But somewhere along all this, the colors of my picture began to run. It was too late to notice the small trickles of water falling onto my life. I could no longer see what I had to ofter anymore and those who once stood by me, rejected me. Even feared me for I might lure the drops of water onto them. Everytime i tried to escape it, I only pretended to not notice it and by now my picture had nothing left to see but the running colors of what is now known as my old life...
I've been handed a new canvas and paint set. Someone told me to let the old piture go and rejoyce because even though I've lost my old creation, It made room for a new one. If I want to preserve what I have created, I must tend to it and make sure that everyday i take the time to admire my art everyday. It's not about the people who stand by you and admire your art, its about the people you put in your art.
As I sat staring at my empty canvas, I became overswhelmed with anxiety. The canvas grew bigger and bigger in my mind and I told myself I could never fill this entire thing. With my eyes held tightly shut I lunged the brush into the canavas. I could only keep my eyes closed for a few seconds before i realized the brush was moving. Slowly a figure emerged and I emediately reconized it. The figure was me. A very vague and undetailed me with one exception. A think line ran across the face of the figure, curving from start to finish. It was silly I didn't reconize the shape but it was the most beautiful part of the painting so far. When I finished drawing myself, I stepped back to get a better look and to my suprize I found myself smiling and pleased with what I had done. For as I examined the person I reconized as myself on the picture, that same person examined me back and too smiled.
School started for most people a week ago. Most of my friends (or something) started college monday. Many others went back to finish up the remaining year or so of high school. Most people have just up and left their old homes to begin a new way of life on their own... I however remained here. Although I am making progress in regestering at SCC and taking classes for my GED, I still feel as though things will never get better and things will never be the same. This summer, the few months between school years, everything and everyone I knew was only an illusion. Real truths hid behind a false portrats. Back then my life was no where near picture perfect, but the picture was still legiable. I knew everything in my life and what place it held. Things would never change. This was how my life was to unfold and these were the people that were to whitness it. But somewhere along all this, the colors of my picture began to run. It was too late to notice the small trickles of water falling onto my life. I could no longer see what I had to ofter anymore and those who once stood by me, rejected me. Even feared me for I might lure the drops of water onto them. Everytime i tried to escape it, I only pretended to not notice it and by now my picture had nothing left to see but the running colors of what is now known as my old life...
I've been handed a new canvas and paint set. Someone told me to let the old piture go and rejoyce because even though I've lost my old creation, It made room for a new one. If I want to preserve what I have created, I must tend to it and make sure that everyday i take the time to admire my art everyday. It's not about the people who stand by you and admire your art, its about the people you put in your art.
As I sat staring at my empty canvas, I became overswhelmed with anxiety. The canvas grew bigger and bigger in my mind and I told myself I could never fill this entire thing. With my eyes held tightly shut I lunged the brush into the canavas. I could only keep my eyes closed for a few seconds before i realized the brush was moving. Slowly a figure emerged and I emediately reconized it. The figure was me. A very vague and undetailed me with one exception. A think line ran across the face of the figure, curving from start to finish. It was silly I didn't reconize the shape but it was the most beautiful part of the painting so far. When I finished drawing myself, I stepped back to get a better look and to my suprize I found myself smiling and pleased with what I had done. For as I examined the person I reconized as myself on the picture, that same person examined me back and too smiled.