(no subject)
I wrote this earlier today:
College is finally becoming less surreal, now that I'm sitting in my backyard, on this autumn-like evening, wearing jeans and long sleeves for the first time this summer. I'm soaking up the forgotten sensation of being completely immearsed in cloth, after remebering how fantastic my ass looks in jeans. It's becoming less surreal to imagine paking all of my clothes, and CDs, and books, and diaries, and secrets, and memories up in dull brown boxes...as if the stories behind any of my random belongings could ever be classified as 'dull'. As the clouds remain stagnantly perched, dusted peach in a periferal frame, I realize that in about a year I'll be watching the sunset in an alien location. Without worrying about having to cover up my notebook when the buzzing and screeching of the cicadas is interrupted by the door slamming, and my mother's unseen presence setting off irrational panic in my irrational beautiful mind. I won't have a backyard. I won't have the lush, abandoned stage of my childhood waiting for me a few steps away. The site of my stuffed animal zoo, the bloody burial of our first dog, my first dry sex experience, and countless ant barbeques will be out of reach.
but it's just a plot of land. Just a spec of green from an airplane. Not even a mere dot in the grandeur of the cosmos.
It's getting cold, I think I'll go inside now.
If you have a heart, or any fond childhood memories of animated Disney CINEMATIC CLASSICS...please sign this survey, http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions/disneytraditionalanimation , it's because Disney is now only making computer animated films...I don't even want to go into why this is bullshit, but take a minute, give back to your former (or present) self.
College is finally becoming less surreal, now that I'm sitting in my backyard, on this autumn-like evening, wearing jeans and long sleeves for the first time this summer. I'm soaking up the forgotten sensation of being completely immearsed in cloth, after remebering how fantastic my ass looks in jeans. It's becoming less surreal to imagine paking all of my clothes, and CDs, and books, and diaries, and secrets, and memories up in dull brown boxes...as if the stories behind any of my random belongings could ever be classified as 'dull'. As the clouds remain stagnantly perched, dusted peach in a periferal frame, I realize that in about a year I'll be watching the sunset in an alien location. Without worrying about having to cover up my notebook when the buzzing and screeching of the cicadas is interrupted by the door slamming, and my mother's unseen presence setting off irrational panic in my irrational beautiful mind. I won't have a backyard. I won't have the lush, abandoned stage of my childhood waiting for me a few steps away. The site of my stuffed animal zoo, the bloody burial of our first dog, my first dry sex experience, and countless ant barbeques will be out of reach.
but it's just a plot of land. Just a spec of green from an airplane. Not even a mere dot in the grandeur of the cosmos.
It's getting cold, I think I'll go inside now.
If you have a heart, or any fond childhood memories of animated Disney CINEMATIC CLASSICS...please sign this survey, http://www.petitionspot.com/petitions/disneytraditionalanimation , it's because Disney is now only making computer animated films...I don't even want to go into why this is bullshit, but take a minute, give back to your former (or present) self.