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"When Not Being Stupid Is Not Enough" by Built To Spill
January 31, 2016 Sunday 5:42 PM
Today, I've gotta watch a movie for extra credit and (start) finish writing my application essay... which I've been putting off because I'm so confused but I don't want to talk about that.
I am going to list a bunch of shit that no one needs to know and the sentences I write probably won't connect.
This week was less of a vacation than I thought. Any rest I had was kind of rendered useless by the stress I was experiencing at like??? All Times???? I wish my brain would calm the hell down.
My momma bought me a plant. So I have a plant baby in my room and I want to name it. Maybe "Emery" because that's a pretty name. God, I just love names.
I had a dream I got third place on the honor roll and people kept patting me on the shoulder like, "Better luck next time," or something. They kept pitying me. It was horrible. But I got over it. Thanks, dream. Now I won't be so worried about it. Besides, it has never been my goal to be the best. If I worry about that, I promise you I'll have a heart attack because I just can't handle that much competition. The only person I can compete with is myself. Maybe that'll change in the future.
Yesterday, I resumed my piano lessons.
I quit piano in 7th grade for reasons I don't even need to reiterate. It effected every part of me way back when, so yeah, of COURSE I quit piano. Just like I quit soccer. And basically everything else ever during that time period.
But anyway, I haven't taken lessons from this lady – I'll call her Petunia because her first name is a type of plant – in four years. I've seen her around, but not much.
Since I quit lessons, she got a divorce, two of her sons moved out and are being adults or something, and her other son was sent to some kind of facility because he had severe autism (I think he was almost twenty last time I saw him) and I dunno. I guess they couldn't handle it anymore. I remember him screaming a lot and it scared me but it was okay.
Yeah, so Petunia's house is pretty freaking empty.
But she's still so jolly and happy and I wonder if that's just a facade or if she really IS that optimistic. But whatever.
It's nice having her teach me again, and it's nice playing too. I forgot how much I liked playing piano, jesus. The piano we have is really fucking old (my dad says we can't repair it because that would cost a couple thousand dollars – the piece of junk basically needs to be gutted) and it kind of sounds like I'm playing a horror movie soundtrack whenever I press the keys but whatever. It works well enough, I guess. Still kind of torturous, though, not gonna lie.
I haven't gone running in awhile. That fact makes me sad because track starts in like a month.
I have two weeks until winter break. Really wish I wasn't an introvert. I know plenty of people get tired out by social interactions, but Jesus Christ. It sucks. It sucks so fucking hard. Okay.
It's dark out and I think I'll go take a shower.
Yesterday I wrote 2000 words and I think that's pretty cool. I'm proud of myself – I've written between 750 and 2500 words a day for over two weeks. I usually can't keep this shit up. I want to be consistent like this. I really enjoy this consistency.
Ew. I just realized I'm growing up... trying to be responsible and stuff. Ew. Oh god, this is awful. I'm going to try and ignore that epiphany – it might ruin everything.
Anyway, I'm glad I've been writing so much, but I should probably read too. I haven't touched my neuroscience book (sounds more impressive than it is) since school let out last Friday. Hmm. I have read like a page of Lord of the Flies but still. And I read a lot of shit online. Still...
I might put a hold on reading that neuroscience book. I want to read the new stuff I got.
At what age do you start talking about dumb stuff? Am I already at that age? Have I always been at that age?
I'm almost done with this abstract-ish painting I made for my Advanced Art Tech class (also sounds more impressive than it is – if I wanted to, I could probably just sit around making one piece of art per quarter and still get a good grade. Actually, that's what I did. This art piece will be my first completed work all year. I wish Mr. Poo Tray would challenge me more).
It looks pretty good actually. And, I got to use some of my sister's expensive paint – Golden brand. I used her phthalo blue. I fucking love that color.
I'll post a link to the picture when I'm actually done with it.
Yet another reason it'd be nice to have a boyfriend: I'm sexually frustrated. Not as sexually frustrated as Liv, but I mean, that's hard to beat.
Anyway, I was masturbating last night and when I was done I was kind of like, "That was really fucking fun but I'm tired of doing this myself." And also, I've talked about how I just want to get the whole thing out of the way. I'm not a fan of shaky first steps, of tender moments full of vulnerability. I just want to stay in that middle stage, where it's still kind of new but you're not so afraid. (The last stage being "ugh not again" but I think some people just don't ever get there. Lucky shits)
But things are never that way. Not that I know the first thing about sexual relationships. I'm just drawing on other experiences.
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