Gotta live life long

I haven't blogged in over a week. Almost two weeks actually.

I haven't even really been on my computer that much. Being an adult (half adult) is a little slap of reality. That's for sure.

I like working. I like having my mind busy, instead of sitting at home on my butt.

However, I am missing my creative time. Taking pictures, blogging, reading. Breathing.

And three days, I'm totally off. Taking on another challenge.

Maybe I'll get some time before I go to sort out some thoughts.

Deja Vu

 

If we ever meet again

I don't really have a good grip on my words right now.  My verb usage leaves much to be desired, and I really couldn't give you the difference between a noun and a pronoun. I mean, that's a bit of exaggeration, but you get what I'm throwing down. Picking up the mess of vowels I'm littering as I walk down the path of making an interesting blog post

My words are a mess, and so is my brain. It's  a never ending tangle; how mom's container of yarn looks after I've been pawing through it. Color mixed with color, skinnier pieces intertwined with larger more pertinent thoughts. A mess of rainbow veins. 

I want to write an in depth blog post, debating the difference between want and need, the difference between an end, and a continuation. To write about the absolute mess the world has come to, when trends on Twitter revolve around May the Fourth. To the lack of respect people have for themselves, and the over consumption of alcohol for ridiculous purposes. To compare and contrast Poe with modern day literature. To analyze quotes pulled from my mass of Chinese literature papers. I want to discuss the merits of running, and how to properly plant dahlias. I want to discuss why people refuse to be happy, and why self pity is the first step in a total downhill spiral. I want to write out pages of lyrics to a song I can't write, and to write the letters I've always meant to send. I want to post about why I can't seem to find a boy worth my time, who makes my heart race, who gives me the actual desire to spend time with him. I want to write about how I actually don't want to find a guy some days, because I have so many things I'd rather do with my time. I want to find a guy who can challenge me to be who I can be. I want to write about friendships, and how they take work.... a lot of work. I want to write about how I have some of the greatest friends. I want to write an appreciation blog post for everyone who has ever made a difference in my life. I want to write an appreciation blog post just for my mother. I want to write about my grandma. I want to write about happy things. I want to write about sad things. I want to have a post of pictures of just flowers. A post of pictures of just close ups of eyes. I want to take pictures of deer, and moose. I want to fill up a whole post full of random quotes. I want to write a blog post about how a song makes so much sense, it's like Lil Wayne read my mind. 

I just want to write forever. 

I want to make a difference, but I can't seem to find a place where any of this could matter to anyone but me. 

I want to stop wanting so many ridiculous self centered things. 

I want my wants to be wanted by someone else. 

They wanna see if it's true

I'm so close, yet so far away. I want to be done. Done with school, and done with my roommate.

But at the same time, I don't want to leave everyone else who means so much to me. It's bittersweet.

It's like one of those heart felt, sappy, throat choking poems. About how my heart feels like it's being split in two, and the tears can't seem to end.

I mean, a total over exaggeration, but you get what I'm throwing down.

I know all good things must end, and it doesn't really mean the end. It's more like the end of one chapter, but on to the next. You can't have a fantastic memoir in one chapter. I mean, it could be interesting though.

Point is, I know that I'm not going to die. And neither is my biff. And neither are any of the literally life long friends I've made.

Because it's not the end, it's not a real good bye. It's a "Have a safe drive home, and we'll skype tomorrow OK?"

 It's a "I'll see you next year! And we can have MP breakfasts every day!"

It's a "Someday I'll be 21, and we can go out to the bars together."

It's a "This has been one of the best years of my life, and I'll never forget it. I just know, next year will be even better if that's possible."

We're all going to be OK.

Because one summer isn't going to change a whole year of becoming a family. 

Bring back what once was mine

I wonder sometimes, if I worry too much.  That I'm actually going to end up being the one to kill myself, from the stress I place upon everything.

I hate when people go on trips without me. I worry about what could happen, how it happens, when it happens. I can't help but not sleep, and be worried them.

I worry about my grades, about my weight, about how I look.

I worry about my friends, if they are my friends, and those who hate me.

I worry about work, and getting a job after graduation, and not being as good as people seem to think I am.

I worry about not being productive, and getting rid of something I might need later.

I worry about Tootsie, and how she's doing since Princess died...well since we put Princess down.

I worry about Princess, Kurt, Grandpa, Leroy.

I worry about Grandma almost daily.

I worry about my mom, and my dad, and Connor.

I worry that something bad might happen, in any regard.

I think I could possibly worry more than almost anyone I know. Which then worries me more because that would mean I'm abnormal.

I know that nothing's going to happen to my family, and that they just pulled out of the driveway less than ten minutes ago.

However, I don't think my stress level will go down until they are home again.