As I Grow Older...
So what I'm about to write are two older journal entries, one from the beginning of November, one from the beginning of December. Both written in my history class. I may cut out a part of one because it's rather graphic. Read on and enjoy.
November 3rd, 2005
I feel so angry, enraged even. I have no idea why. Maybe because things are overpowering me and I have no control over it. Imagine Donnie Darko, minus the big house and airplane crash. I need to go far away. To a new place with new people and new surroundings. I need to forget everything and start over. I stay happy for my friends and family. I don't show the scars, the agony that I feel nearly everyday. Chemical imbalance? Maybe. Talking to the wrong people? Probably. Making mistakes that will never be forgiven nor forgotten? B-I-N-G-O! Maybe I should move to Japan and be a Geisha. Hey, no one would know of my mistakes there. The USA used to be the most advanced. Now it's Japan. The tables have turned. Whatever shall we do? Am I intimidating? I should ask people this question to find out. My lip is swollen. And CRUSTY. Ew. I enjoy art. A lot. Photography more than painting, but I still like both. So tired...why? I get around 7-8 hours of sleep a night. It's useless to get more. Just makes me want more and more sleep. I know it's useless. Just like 90% of our brain until we can find a way to open it up. Imagine the possibilities. Imagine what one person could overcome. You can't imagine. Damn near impossible. I want little feet like the Japanese. I have gigantic feet. Gigantic feet on a girl = no love. Lip ring on a girl = ugly face. Lip ring + big feet = BAD. 1. 618, the Golden Ratio. The perfect number. Asthetically pleasing to the eye. My handwriting varies more than that of a three year old's. I hate it. As bad as a doctor's. Booo. A cell phone rings. Everyone else reaches into their purses or pockets to make sure their's are on vibrate. I'll write for this whole class. I really will. Until my hand cramps up or falls off, whatever comes first. Hopefully class ending. I wonder if this is how people go crazy. Do crazy people know they are crazy? I think so. Crusty lip rings and big green checkered Vans = ugly, crazy, and tired girl. No, not woman. 19 year old girl. GIRL. Make your last words worth reading. Not B.S. Mention the unmentionables. Touch the untouchables. Do the undoables. Do it all and don't stop until you're done. This movie is so long. Open mouth, insert AK47. How do you spell shoot you in the fucking face? It's more than one word. All night classes next semester. Excitement arises. Then falls. Up and down. Star Wars and history = bad connotation. Who cares about Luke and Hans? I'm here to learn about world domination. I have bad eggs. I will never get pregnant naturally. Horrible thought. Let's hope a man's sperm doesn't connect with my bad eggs to form a fucked up child. Jon and I are brain mates. Wh ois Gutenburg? Germany? What? The written word? The printing press? The Tang Dynasty...and all they got was a fruit drink named after them. But everyone will always remember "Hit me baby one more time." America ROCKS. Stupid, stupid lip. Pain for pleasure. Pain to have an even uglier face. Piercing the skin with a 14 gauge needle is the best thing I've done in my 19 years that I've been breathing. My entire head of hair is a vast array of split ends. Pantene Pro V doesn't work as well as they say it should.
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December 1st, 2005
I am sore. I ache. My throat is murdering me from the inside out. My ears are ringing. My nose is stuffed up. I FEEL LIKE SHIT. No good. Relationships suck. I want to leave class now. And go home. And sleep until 6:30pm Friday evening. I'm going to see Harry Potter with Jordan Feltner, the lead singer of Vanghost. He's hot. Very hot. Will I be able to control myself? Yes. Because I have to. I need to learn self-control. Do it. Learn it. (the rest is cut from this entry because I mention names).
So yea...I'm going crazy. Yes, I am.
November 3rd, 2005
I feel so angry, enraged even. I have no idea why. Maybe because things are overpowering me and I have no control over it. Imagine Donnie Darko, minus the big house and airplane crash. I need to go far away. To a new place with new people and new surroundings. I need to forget everything and start over. I stay happy for my friends and family. I don't show the scars, the agony that I feel nearly everyday. Chemical imbalance? Maybe. Talking to the wrong people? Probably. Making mistakes that will never be forgiven nor forgotten? B-I-N-G-O! Maybe I should move to Japan and be a Geisha. Hey, no one would know of my mistakes there. The USA used to be the most advanced. Now it's Japan. The tables have turned. Whatever shall we do? Am I intimidating? I should ask people this question to find out. My lip is swollen. And CRUSTY. Ew. I enjoy art. A lot. Photography more than painting, but I still like both. So tired...why? I get around 7-8 hours of sleep a night. It's useless to get more. Just makes me want more and more sleep. I know it's useless. Just like 90% of our brain until we can find a way to open it up. Imagine the possibilities. Imagine what one person could overcome. You can't imagine. Damn near impossible. I want little feet like the Japanese. I have gigantic feet. Gigantic feet on a girl = no love. Lip ring on a girl = ugly face. Lip ring + big feet = BAD. 1. 618, the Golden Ratio. The perfect number. Asthetically pleasing to the eye. My handwriting varies more than that of a three year old's. I hate it. As bad as a doctor's. Booo. A cell phone rings. Everyone else reaches into their purses or pockets to make sure their's are on vibrate. I'll write for this whole class. I really will. Until my hand cramps up or falls off, whatever comes first. Hopefully class ending. I wonder if this is how people go crazy. Do crazy people know they are crazy? I think so. Crusty lip rings and big green checkered Vans = ugly, crazy, and tired girl. No, not woman. 19 year old girl. GIRL. Make your last words worth reading. Not B.S. Mention the unmentionables. Touch the untouchables. Do the undoables. Do it all and don't stop until you're done. This movie is so long. Open mouth, insert AK47. How do you spell shoot you in the fucking face? It's more than one word. All night classes next semester. Excitement arises. Then falls. Up and down. Star Wars and history = bad connotation. Who cares about Luke and Hans? I'm here to learn about world domination. I have bad eggs. I will never get pregnant naturally. Horrible thought. Let's hope a man's sperm doesn't connect with my bad eggs to form a fucked up child. Jon and I are brain mates. Wh ois Gutenburg? Germany? What? The written word? The printing press? The Tang Dynasty...and all they got was a fruit drink named after them. But everyone will always remember "Hit me baby one more time." America ROCKS. Stupid, stupid lip. Pain for pleasure. Pain to have an even uglier face. Piercing the skin with a 14 gauge needle is the best thing I've done in my 19 years that I've been breathing. My entire head of hair is a vast array of split ends. Pantene Pro V doesn't work as well as they say it should.
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December 1st, 2005
I am sore. I ache. My throat is murdering me from the inside out. My ears are ringing. My nose is stuffed up. I FEEL LIKE SHIT. No good. Relationships suck. I want to leave class now. And go home. And sleep until 6:30pm Friday evening. I'm going to see Harry Potter with Jordan Feltner, the lead singer of Vanghost. He's hot. Very hot. Will I be able to control myself? Yes. Because I have to. I need to learn self-control. Do it. Learn it. (the rest is cut from this entry because I mention names).
So yea...I'm going crazy. Yes, I am.