minimal puncuation because I suck at it
I wrote this last night but wasn't able to post it til now.
It's 10:44 pm. That's like noon to me. I have been sitting here wondering what I'm going to do all night. Hopefully sleep but that probably won't happen.
I need a laptop. No, way bad. Zen is way stingy with his and my computer is in the bedroom. Chris has to go to bed by 10:00 pm (he gets up at 4:30 in the morning).
I could easily buy one but then I would have to listen to Chris tell me how unnecessary it would be and I should just come to bed and find more productive things to do with my free time. Thanks dad....
I feel claustrophobic laying there just staring in the dark. Lately during the week I have just stayed up all night on the love seat writing and listening to music as well as watching really ate up shows about brutal crimes and shit.
Ok now it is 2:30am Zen left earlier to stay the night at his friends house and since they were using his camcorder he told me I could borrow his laptop for the night. It was really nice of him but it took me an hour to figure it out.
Minimal sleep=weird shit. Even less sleep=even weirder shit.
So what's a girl to do? Go downstairs and start writing and thinking way to much. It's at the point now that my fingers are screaming for mercy when the sun is coming up. I feel somewhat apprehensive blogging my thoughts and feelings but it's way to easy to scratch it out on paper.
As far as my book goes I am having serious writers block. It really sucks because I just sit there constantly thinking mundane thoughts that sooner or later become my best friends. Raw emotion is real. You can't find that on your second try. I only write when I am truly inspired. If I go back and change it. It's gone. What you originally thought and felt never graces the pages.
I have several Vincent van Gogh pictures but lately I have found myself extremley fascinated by one in particular. It's called "Church at Auvers"1890. I feel drawn to it for some reason. Sometimes I look at it so much I think that I can see what's behind the windows. As the woman in the picture is walking up the hill I always wonder what her fate is. I'm not so sure I want to know.
In a lot of ways I feel that this painting is my refuge. I can make it anything I want it to be and of course if I don't like it I can always hide inside. A sort of hide and seek with yourself per say.
Sometimes I like being sleep deprived. It opens my eyes and ears to things I may not have noticed otherwise. Music is so much more alive....
I wonder sometimes if I am having hallucinations about certain things. Either way it's comforting. They are my visions and no one else's. This is what I consider my "free time"
A friend of 8 years told me the other day that I am "bazaar." I asked him what bazaar meant to him. He told me I was "just way out there." He then corrected himself and said "No your a fucking lunatic!" "Your mind is just warped. done. period." He walked away and deleted me from his life. He left crying and I still have no idea why he exploded on me. I'd like to laugh it off but what if that is really what people think about me. I mean I do put myself out there in a very candid way which leaves me in an extremely vulnerable position. Sometimes when I go back and read things I have posted I'm like WTF what was I thinking but I know I cant erase what people may have already read. Deleting them at this point is pointless but it leaves me feeling brave in a very minute way. It's hard to describe.
I may make some of my posts "private." Not that anyone reads this shit and the ones that do are thinking "cry me a fucking river cause my strings are toast."
But for me this is life or something like it.
I'm going to check out what van Gogh's thought process was while painting this
About the The Church at Auvers Painting
Vincent van Gogh painted the church in Auvers
during the last year of his life.
The artist was struggling with mental illness
and emotional problems. Rather than the
church looking like a place of refuge and solace,
Vincent has showed it as a place of impending doom and gloom.
Wow! That is nuts. He mentioned the word "refuge."
That's crazy because so did I.
Obviously our idea of refuge are opposite.
He doesn't find the painting as one. I do.
I swear I never read that ever before.
hmmmm. very interesting.
Sometimes I'm just spinning around
what happened to the solace
the comfort that kept me bound
in this bitter world as I know it
~Johnna
excerpt from one of my songs........
It's 10:44 pm. That's like noon to me. I have been sitting here wondering what I'm going to do all night. Hopefully sleep but that probably won't happen.
I need a laptop. No, way bad. Zen is way stingy with his and my computer is in the bedroom. Chris has to go to bed by 10:00 pm (he gets up at 4:30 in the morning).
I could easily buy one but then I would have to listen to Chris tell me how unnecessary it would be and I should just come to bed and find more productive things to do with my free time. Thanks dad....
I feel claustrophobic laying there just staring in the dark. Lately during the week I have just stayed up all night on the love seat writing and listening to music as well as watching really ate up shows about brutal crimes and shit.
Ok now it is 2:30am Zen left earlier to stay the night at his friends house and since they were using his camcorder he told me I could borrow his laptop for the night. It was really nice of him but it took me an hour to figure it out.
Minimal sleep=weird shit. Even less sleep=even weirder shit.
So what's a girl to do? Go downstairs and start writing and thinking way to much. It's at the point now that my fingers are screaming for mercy when the sun is coming up. I feel somewhat apprehensive blogging my thoughts and feelings but it's way to easy to scratch it out on paper.
As far as my book goes I am having serious writers block. It really sucks because I just sit there constantly thinking mundane thoughts that sooner or later become my best friends. Raw emotion is real. You can't find that on your second try. I only write when I am truly inspired. If I go back and change it. It's gone. What you originally thought and felt never graces the pages.
I have several Vincent van Gogh pictures but lately I have found myself extremley fascinated by one in particular. It's called "Church at Auvers"1890. I feel drawn to it for some reason. Sometimes I look at it so much I think that I can see what's behind the windows. As the woman in the picture is walking up the hill I always wonder what her fate is. I'm not so sure I want to know.
In a lot of ways I feel that this painting is my refuge. I can make it anything I want it to be and of course if I don't like it I can always hide inside. A sort of hide and seek with yourself per say.
Sometimes I like being sleep deprived. It opens my eyes and ears to things I may not have noticed otherwise. Music is so much more alive....
I wonder sometimes if I am having hallucinations about certain things. Either way it's comforting. They are my visions and no one else's. This is what I consider my "free time"
A friend of 8 years told me the other day that I am "bazaar." I asked him what bazaar meant to him. He told me I was "just way out there." He then corrected himself and said "No your a fucking lunatic!" "Your mind is just warped. done. period." He walked away and deleted me from his life. He left crying and I still have no idea why he exploded on me. I'd like to laugh it off but what if that is really what people think about me. I mean I do put myself out there in a very candid way which leaves me in an extremely vulnerable position. Sometimes when I go back and read things I have posted I'm like WTF what was I thinking but I know I cant erase what people may have already read. Deleting them at this point is pointless but it leaves me feeling brave in a very minute way. It's hard to describe.
I may make some of my posts "private." Not that anyone reads this shit and the ones that do are thinking "cry me a fucking river cause my strings are toast."
But for me this is life or something like it.
I'm going to check out what van Gogh's thought process was while painting this
About the The Church at Auvers Painting
Vincent van Gogh painted the church in Auvers
during the last year of his life.
The artist was struggling with mental illness
and emotional problems. Rather than the
church looking like a place of refuge and solace,
Vincent has showed it as a place of impending doom and gloom.
Wow! That is nuts. He mentioned the word "refuge."
That's crazy because so did I.
Obviously our idea of refuge are opposite.
He doesn't find the painting as one. I do.
I swear I never read that ever before.
hmmmm. very interesting.
Sometimes I'm just spinning around
what happened to the solace
the comfort that kept me bound
in this bitter world as I know it
~Johnna
excerpt from one of my songs........