*~eSsBeE~*

On the inside....

I never really had a journal before, so I don't know how to
start them properly. I actually used to fear having them in
my house, knowing that my brothers would want to find them
to see if I wrote anything that could get me in trouble.
Ofcourse, then, even if did have a journal, there wouldn't
be anything that could have gotten me in trouble because I
have basicly been a boring person the past sixteen years of
my life. This is something I'm not all that proud of.
Sometimes, I wish I could just stop thinking for a moment,
do something incredibly stupid, and deal with the
consiquences like everyone else.
In my mind, I can do anything I want to. My imagination has
virtually no boundries, yet realisticly, I'm the chicken.
Not Haras, who mearly posed as one because she had guts to
strip in the middle of a store to put on the full feathered
chicken suit.
I've found, that everytime I feel I have come up with
something that suits me, my father shoots it down. What I
would give to live the life of a musician, what he would
give to prevent me from doing so. I don't get it. Music was
his passion too. He spent his high school days playing in a
band of his own, and mom told me that she could see him
gloat as he stood behind a microphone, out living his
passion. But he gave it up, because money became his most
important priorty. He gave up his passion, just to have a
little more green. Now he's a miserable old man that comes
home too tired to do anything else but sleep, or drink.
Last night, he was so out of it, he put some instant
macoroni in the microwave, took it out and was pissed at
the company because it was still hard and tasted like shit.
He forgot to add the two thirds of water and stuck the
noodles in their bone dry. This is sort of irelivent, but I
laughed at him, and he growled at me for being
disrespectful towards the soul provider of the household.
Geez, I'd rather be poor and happy with the life I've got,
than rich and grouchy because I work too hard, and come
home too late to fully comprehend the labels on the
microwave dinners.
I woke up this morning at 6:30... and nearly jumped out of
my skin, seeing as how the bus comes for 6:45. I still
smelled from washing dogs the night before, because I
didn't have time to take a shower, and I didn't have time
to fully wake up. I don't remember all the comments I made,
this morning, but I'm sure they weren't all that pleasent.
Speaking of the dog washing... This is the first of my jobs
that I have actually earnestly enjoyed. The others were
somewhat pleasent, because I worked with nice people, or
because I got passes to whatever movies I wanted to see,
but they weren't the type of jobs that exersized what I
truly enjoyed. Animals. I like them better than people most
of the time. I'm concerned about my white cat, angel. She
took off yesterday after some mouse in the woods, and I
haven't seen her since. I live right on a main road... I
hope she's ok.
Amanda, has been concerning me lately. I don't think she's
pleased with who she is, and that bothers me. She is always
trying to change herself, and she cakes on the make up,
failing to realize that she doesn't need it to make her
pretty. I tell her that she is perfect without the
pretending, but I don't think it's my words that would
influence her the most. And that other person would
probably say the same thing, had he known she was feeling
doubt, but he doesn't say anything. She thinks it's because
he doesn't like what he sees in her. I think its because
he's not aware that she doesn't like what she see's in
herself.
Sarah has helped to maintane my sanity. And I'm glad that
we've formed this thicker bond these past few months. It's
strange that I've known her all my life yet only started
hanging with her recently. Had I gotten to truly know her
sooner, the friendship could have surely formed many years
ago. My aunt is phsyced beyond belief that sarah and I are
becoming close friends, because my aunt has known her
father since she was four. I guess she's glad that Sarah
and I are maintaning the ties with the family. Maybe when
we have families of our own and have kids, they'll growup
friends and carry on the tradition for years to come.

That's all for now...
~Essby