(no subject)
Another dA jounral entry:
I'm going to go through this without using the word "emo." (That doesn't count) I have a 400$ sound system, nobody's here, and I'm sitting here with headphones on. I'm restless right now. I found out something today that bugged the fuck out of me. Thats why I'm writing here, with chopping, poorly composed sentences. poor word choice, and other things that make red pen-loving graders happy. Someone died, dyed her hair, I thought about this, that, and all those things I've told myself NOT to think about. To stop worrying about, what I have stopped worrying...and then BOOM. So I got online, after playing another stupid game of Risk, and wrote. I wrote on my dA journal, maybe because certain people would read it, maybe because I want some complete stranger in Italy to read how I feel. I don't know. I tore myself up.
I hate silence. I bring music wherever I go, even if its just to walk down the hall. It makes me a recluse, it ruins my ears, and makes me seem unapproachable as well as looking pissed off. But I do it. (almost crimes - broken social scene)
I've been feeling great lately. Things are going nice, I guess. I've had more fun than I've had in awhile. I mean, I've let myself have more fun in the past two weeks than I let myself have. I've stopped worrying. (walking to do - ted leo and the pharmacists) It's...just great.
(mothersbaugh's canon - mark mothersbaugh)The past few days I feel like I had the wind knocked out of me. Again. I'm restless again, I'm dissatisifed, and I want to go out and do something stupid, something outside my little rut I dig myself into. I feel like something big could happen. At the same time, it's fall. I fucking love fall. Nothing ever good happens in Fall. In fact, I usually get my heart "broken" the most in fall.
I don't know what to do. But I want to do it. I want to sit and dance in a car (moving my arms in funny motions, almost in rhythm.) Have the conversations sitting in the parking lot of movie theaters, not worrying about relationships. (the other side of mt. heart attack - liars) But I want one, I want to be there for her. I want to fill every nice guy desire I have, to just be "that" guy. Not so much the boyfriend, not so much the friend...not so much anything. I know she's hurting, and she's hurting too. I don't know what I want. But I know I want to want. (pale blue eyes - the velvet underground)
I'm a fucking Rob, and a damn cryptic one at that. (ride into the sun - the velvet underground)
A friend I hardly talk to anymore had a friend die in Iraq. I only know because of an away message. (how it ends - devotchka) It bugged me. All day. From a fucking bomb in a coke can. I'm angry, upset, and...ah. I'm...its over somebody I don't even know. It's the same as on the news. I remembered back in March talking to my Uncle about some folks from Ohio who died in Iraq. I didn't give a damn then. My uncle knew one of the kids. Now somebody I barely know has a friend who died...agh. I'm quite torn up. (If anybody says anything political...well you're just a douchebag. Nobody wants to hear your self-rightous conservative/liberal rhetoric.)
THAT. That is why I'm feeling the way I am right now.
There's clothes to be folding.
Zaijian wode pengyou.
Oh, new photos...probably soon.
I'm going to go through this without using the word "emo." (That doesn't count) I have a 400$ sound system, nobody's here, and I'm sitting here with headphones on. I'm restless right now. I found out something today that bugged the fuck out of me. Thats why I'm writing here, with chopping, poorly composed sentences. poor word choice, and other things that make red pen-loving graders happy. Someone died, dyed her hair, I thought about this, that, and all those things I've told myself NOT to think about. To stop worrying about, what I have stopped worrying...and then BOOM. So I got online, after playing another stupid game of Risk, and wrote. I wrote on my dA journal, maybe because certain people would read it, maybe because I want some complete stranger in Italy to read how I feel. I don't know. I tore myself up.
I hate silence. I bring music wherever I go, even if its just to walk down the hall. It makes me a recluse, it ruins my ears, and makes me seem unapproachable as well as looking pissed off. But I do it. (almost crimes - broken social scene)
I've been feeling great lately. Things are going nice, I guess. I've had more fun than I've had in awhile. I mean, I've let myself have more fun in the past two weeks than I let myself have. I've stopped worrying. (walking to do - ted leo and the pharmacists) It's...just great.
(mothersbaugh's canon - mark mothersbaugh)The past few days I feel like I had the wind knocked out of me. Again. I'm restless again, I'm dissatisifed, and I want to go out and do something stupid, something outside my little rut I dig myself into. I feel like something big could happen. At the same time, it's fall. I fucking love fall. Nothing ever good happens in Fall. In fact, I usually get my heart "broken" the most in fall.
I don't know what to do. But I want to do it. I want to sit and dance in a car (moving my arms in funny motions, almost in rhythm.) Have the conversations sitting in the parking lot of movie theaters, not worrying about relationships. (the other side of mt. heart attack - liars) But I want one, I want to be there for her. I want to fill every nice guy desire I have, to just be "that" guy. Not so much the boyfriend, not so much the friend...not so much anything. I know she's hurting, and she's hurting too. I don't know what I want. But I know I want to want. (pale blue eyes - the velvet underground)
I'm a fucking Rob, and a damn cryptic one at that. (ride into the sun - the velvet underground)
A friend I hardly talk to anymore had a friend die in Iraq. I only know because of an away message. (how it ends - devotchka) It bugged me. All day. From a fucking bomb in a coke can. I'm angry, upset, and...ah. I'm...its over somebody I don't even know. It's the same as on the news. I remembered back in March talking to my Uncle about some folks from Ohio who died in Iraq. I didn't give a damn then. My uncle knew one of the kids. Now somebody I barely know has a friend who died...agh. I'm quite torn up. (If anybody says anything political...well you're just a douchebag. Nobody wants to hear your self-rightous conservative/liberal rhetoric.)
THAT. That is why I'm feeling the way I am right now.
There's clothes to be folding.
Zaijian wode pengyou.
Oh, new photos...probably soon.