Those bastard nazis. Sorry about the last post; i really hope you will still continue to read my mindless drivel. I just wanted to let you all know that I am overstressed at the moment. I have this university class that i am supposed to devote like 14 hours of my time to, and it's working out wonderfully (sarcasm--language of the weak). I have 5 normal classes to keep up with, which wouldn't be that hard if i wasn't doing the university thing. But i am, so yeah. i have a research paper to do for english. i have to worry about my ap tests, ACT tests, SAT tests, and a butt-load of other things. I have to worry about school clubs, school activities, and grades. I have soccer to do--which apparently has informed me that i am out of shape. I have to improve my music tastes. And on top of that, I have to worry about life. About meaning. Ooh voila; there's nothing there. And so...
I'm in a heap. Stuff on top of me, stuff below me, and i can't help but wonder if there is a giant mouth somewhere below me, chomping all this stuff into little tiny bits. I would like to go into some interesting imagery to describe just how i feel, but that would take too long. So uh, stfu. Leave me alone. (if i had to do the imagery, it would be of a jail-cell and me acting like tom sawyer--because i am so frazzled that i cannot decide which plan to go with, huck finn ftw). The worst part of it is that i'm doing it alone. All of it, there isn't a person that i can confide in and be happy about my self-centered life with.
Do you ever stop to wonder if life is just a dream? If we are all just fermenting in an egg--until we have lived every possible life and at once become GOD? I kind of do.
I can’t help but wonder if there’s some moon inside me, spinning and shifting without my consent, making here over there and over there here,and I’m afraid I’ll end up rolling out, beyond the lifeguard stand, up and over the dunes and into the parking lot, sprawling into the roads, unearthing houses and lampposts, drowning children I’ve knocked from their bikes. I stare at the farthest reaches of the tallest trees, jutting up like the tips of an explosion, and I imagine touching them but it feels all wrong, like fingering the corners of my heart–somewhere that shouldn’t be touchable, a place that shouldn’t be reached. And wherever that is, I know that’s where I am. -Everything I’m Cracked Up To Be
But then again, i don't. I'm just a helpless 17-year old. I don't care about people (lie)--and they only sometimes give a rat's ass about me. And then, i just pity, pity, pity. It's my only function anymore (lie). And it just gets so hard sometimes. Be calm, be calm (quote?). So i follow my rut lines. And i trap myself by conditioning myself to think morbidly, self-centeredly, and "analytically". And it's shit. Vie du merde. Yeh, profanity. Get used to it. Don't get used to it. Be Holden Caufield. See that "F" "U" "C" "K" and erase it. Get so flaming mad that you want to kill whoever wrote it. Be a righteous NAZI!!!! or a righteous fox--whatever the hell that means. Be happy. Be happy. Be happy. Be healthy. Be happy Be happy be happy be happy behappybehappybehappybehappy. What about the mold? No just do what i say.
Even with freedom, even with thought, all the world is still not yours. Your mind is not even your own. You should be happy. You shouldn't be told to be happy. Agg, this silence is killing me. Come on. Come on. What's it not to you. I don't know. I've lost my thunder. I just don't get the product anymore. It's like i've calculated the sum--and im unwilling to pay it. So i go for lower quality--and that may as well be the lowest possible. Ahhhhh,, so many thoughts. They are took control. I are can't think. Not are in the way that i want.
