So, Long ago i set out down the yellow brick road...
When I was a kid, i would pretend I was Dorothy Gale. I'd put on my mother's red heels, and wander around singing over the rainbow at the top of my childish lungs (god, i was so much louder then). I wouldn't even allow anyone else to sing it, it was "My Song!", no any one else's. I don't have much else but songs,and pretty melodies rushing through my sugar rushing head. And now, I spend my spare time writting this blog, this blog that no one reads, that no one may ever read. And I'm okay with that,this is written for me,not pandering for anyone else.For anyone decides to read it, go ahead,I hope it helps you.
.....And i brought me to this strange pulsing techincolour world.
This week is going to be my hell. I have to write my philosophy essay (the one I've been putting off for months), polish up my psychology project on eating disorders (seriously too close to the topic. I keep thinking with my own experiences!), finish up my Anthro/Psych/Socio seminar (was so tempted to use Everybody's a Little Bit Racist) and study and write my Philosophy exam (but i pretty much lost all my notes)!
I may just crash and burn, and keep crashing, and keep burning until there's nothing left, but me standing in the rain screaming for "them" to turn of the cameras.
And for the record here's the official list of things to get me through this hell week:
- REPO: The Genetic Opera, Sin City, and the Dark Knight (yes, again....)
- Strawberries and Cream, and Ritz Crackers
- Lullaby- The Cure, Colors-Crossfade, Liquefy-The Servant
- Singing along to everything
- My Office and Arrested Development DVDs
Me and my stupid procrastination. My stupid screenwriting, my all consumbing lust.
Fuck! I just can't get anything done! and I keep thinking dangerous thoughts, like I only need a seventy to keep my Carleton acceptance. What if i just didn't do anything?
Its a dangerous path. And I need to get off it.
I'm such a fucking mess. I really need someone to lend me a hand, take me out this shame spiral. This burn-out course. But there's no one, the guys don't fall for the quiet ones. They don't try to get to know, even though i would probably be the absolute best girlfriend ever. Really.
And I blew my chances (damn why must everything be sexual?) when I had them. I at wasn't ready then, I didn't feel the emptyness I do now. It was just flattering, my only examples so far of unrequited love that was directed at me, not from me.Probably the only one I may ever experience (that i know of). I'm getting to the point where I'm thinking of making some big confessions to everyone I've kept in the dark on graduation day. Of running up to a guy kissing him and walking out into the night (well.. it would be day) never to be seen again. That would be culmination, catharthis if anything else.
Did you know you can actually die from laughing? What a way to go! I can only hope.
But sometimes things just get so back that you just gotta step back, look back at the world and laugh. And go out on a laugh, the pefect punchline.
I've had those moments when I laugh uncontrollably for ten minutes (last time my friend took extremely unflatttering pictures of the entire thing)and it is like choking right in the pocket of my throat, but it's like freedom-more than anything else-letting everything else go, fall away. Letting go of who I pretend to be, and giving a glimpse of who I
It's scary, dangerous, and putting myself out there at my most vunerable.
But it may just be the best feeling yet. The perfect way to get though this pointless stuff.
When this week is over, I'll find some reward for my paltry suffering . I don't know what yet. But it will be spectacular... spectacular
I may just be the Cowardly Lion. I've got a heart, sometimes I think it may be too much heart that leads me to desperation and pathetically romantic fantasies, and too much brains and curiousity about everything (I'd open Pandora's box or watch The Ring tape) for my own good. But I can't even carry on a conversation, or talk to the guys I like. I'm seriously lacking in courage.
I lie on the floor, peel myself up and listen to music thinking about destiny.And I lace up my life, tie myself in and try to overcome my burgeoning case of Senioritis. And try to wake up.
It was all a dream... and you were there, and you were there.
And you? You were the greatest one of all.
Is there no place like home? Will I miss it when I move out? Or less likely- will I end up missing Milton, the town I've been trashing since I got here? DOUBTFUL!
-Catch.
And Throw It Back
