i better knock on wood
my dreams as of late have been horribly soul shaking. i've been dreaming of paid shooting sprees, only stopping once i realized how many pregnant women i've shot and freak the fuck out. another was of children getting their palms sliced open and having guns implanted into them as part of a fashion trend created by adults. yet another was the compulsion across the world to park your car and take a shotgun to your head. in that dream it was just me seeing the people climb into the car and shooting themselves. scene after scene of shot after shot. how everybody's head splattered differently and how their environment interacted for a moment after their death. some had pets in the car, some babies, others just left the window open and a butterfly might fly in and land.
there is black dust on your jeans from where the charcoal falls and settles on your knees. the smears on your jawline from when you scratch or become deep on thought. i love taking glimpses of your dirty hands and seeing the slight stubble you've grown. your skin so pale and your lips so soft looking, they remind me of another man(boy?) i've intimate with. i giggle;e furiously to myself as i blacken my fingertips and notice you're not wearing socks. it amuses me to no end you barely know of my existence and i sit a mere 5 feet from you. i admit i only notice you in bit and pieces, but i view your works as a whole. it's hard to say why and how somebody who excels in what they do is such a turn on. i want to take you on, coal smears and all. i sit behind my easel and draw what i'm told to and get nervous about being seen by you. i look forward to each chance we pass and i notice when you stand close to me. and yet, the only time i'll talk to you is to ask for tape or how to draw an ellipse without making it look pinched. you're so daring in your quietness and i don't think anybody but me sees it. you're practically daring me to think of you and maybe you don't even know it.
school is hard. i've spent so much money to afford to say such things. quarter system doesn't work well with me. going from zero to 6 million in less than a week and i'm doing a drag race with a beat up old honda hatchback. i falter often and doubt myself many times and i keep trying but i don't seem to be able to catch up. i feel like giving up so often and i try to wipe that from my mind, but i get so distressed. i'm not making the grades i want to and i'm old and the younger ones seem to have so much more built in talent than i. again, i try not to let it get to me, but they have so much energy and can stay up for days at a time, but when my mental state breaks down, i have to sleep. it's almost as if nothingc an stop my body. if i don't just give in, it gives in for me and that puts me even farther behind.
i enjoy the learning. i relish in the knowledge. it's almost as if my brain just soaks it up greedily, practically starved. i look forward to drawing class, i love looking at colors, i get excited about listening to my history teacher's lectures, but the turnover rate in which work is due is freaking hellish. i don't like this quarter system. there is no time to do anything but eat sleep and work. i've only made one friend while here and though she makes every interaction with her a brighter day, i was hoping for more in the numbers.
but the days are beautiful. almost every day is like a reminder that perfection comes when it's natural and beauty is never rushed when sunlight is involved. i love the windchimes beneath my bedroom window and the walks i get to take my dog on. i love the cool air at night and being independent. though i hate carrying all my things to and from class, i enjoy the journeys. i may dislike the amount of assignments, but i do enjoy them on an individual basis. i just wish i had more time. for the first time ever in my life, do i wish there was more than 24 hours in a day. at least, the first time i wished that and wasn't in the arms of someone i loved and didn't want to leave.
the days blur together that are class days. i forget who i am and what i'm suppose dto be doing, but fridays" oh fridays! i embrace you in sweet slumber. i sleep for most of the day, trying to make up for the hectic life i've lead the previous 4. i walk constantly and eat so much less, yet my weight isn't really dropping.
i think it reduces to: i'm frustrated with reality and yearning to stay in my daydreams and my slumber times. sometimes it feels that while i'm sleeping and living in my dreams, i'm almost at the cusp of something great and wonderful and it's a reward for being me, but i never get there and i never have enough time to reach that goal and i don't have enough life experience to feed the machine. i just work sleep and eat. i don't go out, i don't do anything. i have my roommate, my dog and crystal. it's not a bad lot, but it's not a lot. i'm not asking for sheer numbers, i'm asking for more substance. leave the fat on the side.
it's strange that i am at a school that is supposed to fine tune your creativity with technique and applicable knowledge, but the most creative i've been so far has been on a project that isn't even for class or for me.
i long for being wistful and more giggles.
i didn't feel alive before because i did nothing.
and now i don't feel alive cause i'm doing to much.
i don't feel regretful, but i am feeling like my life is being wasteful.
and i don't know what to do with my time that i have left,
because i don't even have time to contemplate what i'm doing.
i should be working right now.
i should be going.
i wish i felt like somebody energized me with the glory of being.
there is black dust on your jeans from where the charcoal falls and settles on your knees. the smears on your jawline from when you scratch or become deep on thought. i love taking glimpses of your dirty hands and seeing the slight stubble you've grown. your skin so pale and your lips so soft looking, they remind me of another man(boy?) i've intimate with. i giggle;e furiously to myself as i blacken my fingertips and notice you're not wearing socks. it amuses me to no end you barely know of my existence and i sit a mere 5 feet from you. i admit i only notice you in bit and pieces, but i view your works as a whole. it's hard to say why and how somebody who excels in what they do is such a turn on. i want to take you on, coal smears and all. i sit behind my easel and draw what i'm told to and get nervous about being seen by you. i look forward to each chance we pass and i notice when you stand close to me. and yet, the only time i'll talk to you is to ask for tape or how to draw an ellipse without making it look pinched. you're so daring in your quietness and i don't think anybody but me sees it. you're practically daring me to think of you and maybe you don't even know it.
school is hard. i've spent so much money to afford to say such things. quarter system doesn't work well with me. going from zero to 6 million in less than a week and i'm doing a drag race with a beat up old honda hatchback. i falter often and doubt myself many times and i keep trying but i don't seem to be able to catch up. i feel like giving up so often and i try to wipe that from my mind, but i get so distressed. i'm not making the grades i want to and i'm old and the younger ones seem to have so much more built in talent than i. again, i try not to let it get to me, but they have so much energy and can stay up for days at a time, but when my mental state breaks down, i have to sleep. it's almost as if nothingc an stop my body. if i don't just give in, it gives in for me and that puts me even farther behind.
i enjoy the learning. i relish in the knowledge. it's almost as if my brain just soaks it up greedily, practically starved. i look forward to drawing class, i love looking at colors, i get excited about listening to my history teacher's lectures, but the turnover rate in which work is due is freaking hellish. i don't like this quarter system. there is no time to do anything but eat sleep and work. i've only made one friend while here and though she makes every interaction with her a brighter day, i was hoping for more in the numbers.
but the days are beautiful. almost every day is like a reminder that perfection comes when it's natural and beauty is never rushed when sunlight is involved. i love the windchimes beneath my bedroom window and the walks i get to take my dog on. i love the cool air at night and being independent. though i hate carrying all my things to and from class, i enjoy the journeys. i may dislike the amount of assignments, but i do enjoy them on an individual basis. i just wish i had more time. for the first time ever in my life, do i wish there was more than 24 hours in a day. at least, the first time i wished that and wasn't in the arms of someone i loved and didn't want to leave.
the days blur together that are class days. i forget who i am and what i'm suppose dto be doing, but fridays" oh fridays! i embrace you in sweet slumber. i sleep for most of the day, trying to make up for the hectic life i've lead the previous 4. i walk constantly and eat so much less, yet my weight isn't really dropping.
i think it reduces to: i'm frustrated with reality and yearning to stay in my daydreams and my slumber times. sometimes it feels that while i'm sleeping and living in my dreams, i'm almost at the cusp of something great and wonderful and it's a reward for being me, but i never get there and i never have enough time to reach that goal and i don't have enough life experience to feed the machine. i just work sleep and eat. i don't go out, i don't do anything. i have my roommate, my dog and crystal. it's not a bad lot, but it's not a lot. i'm not asking for sheer numbers, i'm asking for more substance. leave the fat on the side.
it's strange that i am at a school that is supposed to fine tune your creativity with technique and applicable knowledge, but the most creative i've been so far has been on a project that isn't even for class or for me.
i long for being wistful and more giggles.
i didn't feel alive before because i did nothing.
and now i don't feel alive cause i'm doing to much.
i don't feel regretful, but i am feeling like my life is being wasteful.
and i don't know what to do with my time that i have left,
because i don't even have time to contemplate what i'm doing.
i should be working right now.
i should be going.
i wish i felt like somebody energized me with the glory of being.