kcholven
The sound of my alarm is the worst thing to hear. I wish I could sleep in an endless abyss until the end of time, dreaming my vivid, vivid dreams. I sleep to relax, to be calm, to escape? I'm not sure yet.
Today is my birthday. I've realized that I spent all of this time being super excited and hyping up what this day actually means. It just makes me sad that today I laid in my bed all day ignoring any sort of life and responsibility and just slept. It makes Tuesday seem more sweet -- the day I'm starting pills for depression.
I have no idea how to even use a wrench. Sorry world, but I'm not as capable as my ancestors -- or even my father for that fact. I like to think I have other skills that make me more "suited" for success, but I may just be being arrogant and stupid. WHO KNOWS. I can't really say i care though, I am pretty well off in the mechanical skills department from my Dad in childhood -- better off than some friends.
I was standing in a darkroom when i saw a cold face appear. it was like no other thing i had ever seen before, its bright blue eyes reminded me of stars and galazies fomr far away. it told me stories of love and hate but most of all, sadness. I thought about how much the world could be filled with sadness
I sit in the darkroom where my thoughts are contained. In the night, I'm trying to sleep, trying to leave everything from the previous day behind, but all I can do is reflect. I reflect on all of my life choices, happiness, regrets. I play over and over everything that happened in my mind, saying I should have done this, I shouldn't have done that. I wish I could just live for the future.
I used to love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I used to be a kid too. I'm afraid of eating jelly now because I don't want to be fat, but the fact that I think this immediately makes me sad. The troubles and problems that develop with age are a part of human life, which again makes me sad. Good purpose for the human life: sadness?
When filing out my travel entry today in my journal I realized that my print isn't as pretty as I thought it once to be. This scrawl I call my hand writing is not elegant, but in fact sloppy and immature looking. I need to try and perfect the curves of my letters if I ever want to be considered a serious adult in the future.
I'm leaning over my computer because I have terrible posture. It''s runs in the family, so it's not like I'm just a super slouchy biatch or something, but I definitely can see how unappealing it is. I am a worrier though, so of course in all of my free time I'm sitting here worrying about my damn posture. Gotta lean sometimes, ya know?