Because I'm given everything and all I want to do is hang out with my friends and play the banjo.
I'm pretty irresponsible, I know. I'm an attention whore. I don't care about anything in life but my friends, my parents, my dog, my music, my instruments, my God, and my Sufjan. But it's okay. Everything has its piece of time, and right now it is my time to be this crazy person. Later, I can be somebody else. I will be okay.
I'm supposed to have my valedictorian speech written by 9 am tomorrow so I can rehearse it, but right now I have a little bit written down. And I just want to go to school to see my underclassmen friends!! GAH. It's a beautiful time, the beginning of summer. The end of summer sucks. Because at the end of summer you're like "Holy Fuck, I have to leave my friends and go to college and not see them for MONTHS! AH!" but right now I'm just like "Yay. Let's have fun and be assholes and have fun because we have 3 months to do it!!!" And it's okay.
Sometimes it's great to be 18 years old, driving around, listening to Voxtrot on full blast, with a hipster stick in your mouth. I recommend it.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
White Snow Red
I was following the pack, all swallowed in their coats.
White Winter Hymnal. Yep. Soundtrack of my past week.
I really think I am becoming one of those people. You know, those people. Those annoying people who want everything they can't have. I really think I'm like that. If there's something, or someone, I can't have, I want it. It's an awful disease, because you usually end up with nothing. The thing about me, though, is I realize I'm doing something wrong, but I don't stop it. Because it makes me so happy for a moment to believe these wonderful, impossible dreams. It only takes a year or two for disappointment to set in. But that time, it is so sweet and glorious... Believing these dreams. If only, right? Oh well. Sometimes life just plain old hurts... Like seriously hurts. Luckily, God made music, love, and friendship to help that.
I went to my first-ever funeral today. It was for a girl who was my age, who died of cancer. I went up to see her in her casket, and I never felt older. It was the first dead person I've ever seen, and she looked beautiful and alive. She looked prettier than anyone there. And that's a good thing.
The funny thing about dead stuff is that I always think it will come back. When Roxie got put down about a year ago, I held her as she died. I could literally feel the heartbeat leave her little cancerous body. As it slowed, I thought maybe some crazy miracle would bring it back to speed, normal, healthy, like nothing ever happened. When she did die, I thought she would jump back to life. I thought she was sleeping. Putting her in a garbage bag felt so wrong to me, because I thought she would wake up and be scared. It's all just wishful thinking, really. I'm just not good at dealing with permanence.
I still can't believe that Theresa is dead. I remember hearing she had cancer, then that she was close to death, then that she died. I found out that she died on my birthday. I still can't believe it. Even after a whole funeral mass, I still can't believe it.
White Winter Hymnal. Yep. Soundtrack of my past week.
I really think I am becoming one of those people. You know, those people. Those annoying people who want everything they can't have. I really think I'm like that. If there's something, or someone, I can't have, I want it. It's an awful disease, because you usually end up with nothing. The thing about me, though, is I realize I'm doing something wrong, but I don't stop it. Because it makes me so happy for a moment to believe these wonderful, impossible dreams. It only takes a year or two for disappointment to set in. But that time, it is so sweet and glorious... Believing these dreams. If only, right? Oh well. Sometimes life just plain old hurts... Like seriously hurts. Luckily, God made music, love, and friendship to help that.
I went to my first-ever funeral today. It was for a girl who was my age, who died of cancer. I went up to see her in her casket, and I never felt older. It was the first dead person I've ever seen, and she looked beautiful and alive. She looked prettier than anyone there. And that's a good thing.
The funny thing about dead stuff is that I always think it will come back. When Roxie got put down about a year ago, I held her as she died. I could literally feel the heartbeat leave her little cancerous body. As it slowed, I thought maybe some crazy miracle would bring it back to speed, normal, healthy, like nothing ever happened. When she did die, I thought she would jump back to life. I thought she was sleeping. Putting her in a garbage bag felt so wrong to me, because I thought she would wake up and be scared. It's all just wishful thinking, really. I'm just not good at dealing with permanence.
I still can't believe that Theresa is dead. I remember hearing she had cancer, then that she was close to death, then that she died. I found out that she died on my birthday. I still can't believe it. Even after a whole funeral mass, I still can't believe it.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Dreamt Last Night
I had a horrible, beautiful dream last night that I know will never come true. You were hiding in a tunnel and I found you; it was a happy moment, and you kissed me. That's when I knew it was dream and not real. Then I woke up and heard my parents arguing. You know, with all the stuff my family has been through for 10 years, I thought it'd be something serious. My brother was in jail. Or dead. Or my grandma was dead. Or something, you know? I'm the kind of person that jumps to the worst conclusions. Death or incarceration. But no, when I walked downstairs and asked, they were arguing about tile cleaners, which filled me with a mix of laughter and relief and disbelief. Tile cleaners. Really.
Ah well. There's a lot to be done today. English paper, Physics test... Well admittedly, that's it. It's not much work, but it's time consuming. I really don't know what to do with myself. I just like when I had good dreams like the one last night. Mainly my dreams involve me having to stab somebody, or somebody shooting me, or something going up in flames or down with a crash. Usually my dreams just make me want someone else's brain for a night, just to escape the nightmares. Chronic nightmares can really mess with you, ya know.
Well, there's not much else to say. Wish me patience!
Ah well. There's a lot to be done today. English paper, Physics test... Well admittedly, that's it. It's not much work, but it's time consuming. I really don't know what to do with myself. I just like when I had good dreams like the one last night. Mainly my dreams involve me having to stab somebody, or somebody shooting me, or something going up in flames or down with a crash. Usually my dreams just make me want someone else's brain for a night, just to escape the nightmares. Chronic nightmares can really mess with you, ya know.
Well, there's not much else to say. Wish me patience!
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