"Who Is John Galt?"
Ahh..another fine day of school. Sucessfully completing my first week of school and sobriety.
back on my adderal again. Its I remember why I hated it so much, things just start running in clockwork again and I think too much.
I hope this doesnt end up to be another very boring weekend.
I pretty much have been outed to the school but I couldnt muster up the energy to care. I think there is something very wrong with that.
I just like to be nice to people, not bring them down, and have a good time. I dont care if you dont like them and if you think that they are a loser. And it doenst matter if they are. Youre not important enough to say that they arent. So channel your bullshit elsewhere and get off my back. Id quite like to be left alone sometimes.
**Im looking around my moms apartment, listening to Donnie Darko and half wanting to go back home but I dont want to see my dad.
Aperently everyone worth knowing exist appear to be at the core and I think I oughta call Desinsi. See what shes up too...
Maybe I oughta quit pussyfooting around and draw a damn picture. Ive really been wasting my time avoiding actually putting a pencil to paper..but I did try to sketch a hand and only dissapointed myself further. I think I know how Jamie Thomas felt when he blew out his knee for the second time and needed to start skating again...seems like everyone is better and Ill never get halfway there. All these visions in my head, going no where, building up. Maybe once I acomplish something Ill be back on into my flow of ingnoring all things not related the the sketchbook infront of me during all my classes.
Im feeling a little light and misunderstood. Could be why I dont feel the urge to draw what I want, why Im so blocked. Ive finally gotten fed up with people saying, "You need help", "Seek thearpy". Its not funny and youre being a douche. Ive always thought it was pretty clear, I draw or I kill but I keep showing my work to people who ask, hoping someone might get it. Not likely. Theres just too many holes. Pretty women with globe brand breasts and cutsie kittie cats dont intrest me but its not all blood and gore. I just want to put a little feeling down on paper but its proving impossible. Being sad and drawing a pic is different from drawing a sad picture...sigh.
Getting pissed over it is useless. Getting mad in general is useless, I try not to do it. Soemtimes I cant help it. Its actually been so long since Ive been truely angry, like furious, I want someone to make me livid. Just to remember what its like...I kinda miss that range of emotions. Used to be a large chunk of my life, spent so much time harboring resentment towards people. I guess Ive just let it go. Sadly, it wasnt God that did it. I wish it was.
I dont think it was pot either. That would have been a convenient explination. I guess I just did, and thats the scary part. I let so much go at once, I sometimes wonder where it all went...and if it could come back.
back on my adderal again. Its I remember why I hated it so much, things just start running in clockwork again and I think too much.
I hope this doesnt end up to be another very boring weekend.
I pretty much have been outed to the school but I couldnt muster up the energy to care. I think there is something very wrong with that.
I just like to be nice to people, not bring them down, and have a good time. I dont care if you dont like them and if you think that they are a loser. And it doenst matter if they are. Youre not important enough to say that they arent. So channel your bullshit elsewhere and get off my back. Id quite like to be left alone sometimes.
**Im looking around my moms apartment, listening to Donnie Darko and half wanting to go back home but I dont want to see my dad.
Aperently everyone worth knowing exist appear to be at the core and I think I oughta call Desinsi. See what shes up too...
Maybe I oughta quit pussyfooting around and draw a damn picture. Ive really been wasting my time avoiding actually putting a pencil to paper..but I did try to sketch a hand and only dissapointed myself further. I think I know how Jamie Thomas felt when he blew out his knee for the second time and needed to start skating again...seems like everyone is better and Ill never get halfway there. All these visions in my head, going no where, building up. Maybe once I acomplish something Ill be back on into my flow of ingnoring all things not related the the sketchbook infront of me during all my classes.
Im feeling a little light and misunderstood. Could be why I dont feel the urge to draw what I want, why Im so blocked. Ive finally gotten fed up with people saying, "You need help", "Seek thearpy". Its not funny and youre being a douche. Ive always thought it was pretty clear, I draw or I kill but I keep showing my work to people who ask, hoping someone might get it. Not likely. Theres just too many holes. Pretty women with globe brand breasts and cutsie kittie cats dont intrest me but its not all blood and gore. I just want to put a little feeling down on paper but its proving impossible. Being sad and drawing a pic is different from drawing a sad picture...sigh.
Getting pissed over it is useless. Getting mad in general is useless, I try not to do it. Soemtimes I cant help it. Its actually been so long since Ive been truely angry, like furious, I want someone to make me livid. Just to remember what its like...I kinda miss that range of emotions. Used to be a large chunk of my life, spent so much time harboring resentment towards people. I guess Ive just let it go. Sadly, it wasnt God that did it. I wish it was.
I dont think it was pot either. That would have been a convenient explination. I guess I just did, and thats the scary part. I let so much go at once, I sometimes wonder where it all went...and if it could come back.