“SKINNYFAT is when you are very thin but soft and flabby and look much larger than you are, because you starved off most of your muscle and kept half to 3/4ths of your fat.” Which is why I need to do this the right way. I want to be toned and healthy. I really want to do this right, with exercise and proper diet.
We’ve grown so much together. It’s impressive (to me at least). It’s getting better all the time. I do love you.
I just want to be home with my momma, my sister, and my beautiful doggy. There must be a rhythm in which things can fall apart gracefully. Despite how eager I was to leave home, something is drawing me back. I miss the comfort, the quiet, the light, and the colored walls. I miss my family, with the exception of my father. My father is still spiraling downward and moving further into insanity, which makes me worry about my mom and my little sister. I had a little reminder of my dad last night during an argument and it froze my blood. It’s hard to think of anything else, but I need to focus on my work. We’re creeping closer to Thanksgiving break! It may be just a day away from school, but it will still do me well. The end of the semester is also close, which excites me. MCAD is wonderful but is constantly kicking my ass. An art school’s C is equal to an A at some state university, my teachers say. That harsh system sends out an overall feeling of mediocrity. I need energy, that’s all. I’ll work better and feel better. It might be time that I look at some other narcolepsy medications…
I’m loving this college. I can say with confidence that I made the right choice. Meeting people is so easy and my professors seem really cool, not including the pretentious vegan… UGH. We’re also studying Darwin in great depth in my Reading & Writing II class. Victorian writing is so redundant, humble, and dependent on elegance to prove the author’s intelligence. On the Origin of Species? HA, more like On the Origin of Feces. I’m hanging in there. On another school note, a couple of students are trying to set up a school marching band called M-CADENCE. Bwahaha, see what they did there. They passed me in the gallery today. There were two trombones, a glock, a flute, weird antenna things, and a lot of pots and pans. It’s art school, they’re doing the best they can. The warnings were right. This work load is impossibly large. But it’s good work, to be sure. I’d just prefer a bit more sleep.
Ah, yes. SLEEP. Remember that black-out car crash I was talking about this summer? After some sleep-testing, I was diagnosed with narcolepsy, however, I do not enter REM sleep as quickly as most narcoleptic people do. But sleeping, I’m great at it. I’m now on meds for that, essentially speed. This is what feeling awake feels like? It feels amazing.
My move-in date is over a month away. BUT DAMN IT, I’M READY NOW. Mentally.
All I need is a bike, some utilities, and pepper spray to be completely ready for the city.
I suppose I have a lot to talk about. I haven’t posted some writings in a while and I don’t want my blog to only consist of photos. Which reminds me, I should upload some tunes. I went to Rock the Garden yesterday out in the Sculpture Garden. It was arranged by 89.3 The Current and The Walker. I like me some Tapes ‘n Tapes and though I haven’t made it all the way through their latest release, Outside, I think it will be a good one. Booker T and his band nailed it. Neko Case… I’m not a fan. The stage presence was annoying to boot. My Morning Jacket was ridiculous(ly good). The rain was awful but a lot of people stayed for the concert’s entirety.
I got in a car crash. I was driving along HWY 212 and things went black. I then woke up to the thunderous sound of my car bashing against the median. A big squishy business man pulled over to help me out of my car. He let me hug him. Maybe he has a daughter. He had to leave for a meeting and shortly after, a cop came. He was a jerk. While my car (which then resembled an accordian) was towed, I sat in the back of the cop’s car. The backseat was filled with flowers to be delivered, so he might have had a heart in him somewhere. Obviously, my parents were not so pleased. What happened? I wasn’t tired at all, which makes this as much of a mystery as it was a disaster. So, I’ve been in and out of the clinic for testing and whatnot. As for injuries from the accident… well, I got off scott free and no one can fathom why.
Oh! Better news! Both my boyfriend and I got jobs this week. Some day we’ll be able to afford a home. And oh! I’m sorry if this doesn’t flow, I’m writing so quickly and almost carelessly.
More later.
I’m still trying to figure out what my style is. I want to build and shape my work so that it can be presented as close as possible to how I intend it. A lot of my work is inspired by large and little experiences, few in-between events. There are the little things that compel my art; scents like mahogany, coffee, and melting snow connote pictures where I want people to see the sense of smell (without Synesthesia). That’s how many memories exist, you know. Sometimes a small sentence or a thought can represent a concept so loaded that the only place to put it is on paper, a napkin, whatever I can get my hands on. Larger influences often come from corrupted relationships, my family and the concept of “family”, and mortality.
321+ notes on a photo that I took and submitted. No new followers? Blogging sucks.
I had a lovely weekend with my boyfriend, mom, sister, and grandparents. We celebrated mother’s day about four hours away, which left me time to rummage through a few thoughts. In the car, I sleep and think. I thought about my dad. I’m trying my best not to care quite as much about his mental state. He keeps pulling out my love, sympathy, empathy, and optimism. Now, empathy; though I don’t fully understand his disease, I recognize the lows. The difference between him and I is that I try. I wrote him a letter asking him to be an adult. I hate to be insensitive, but there comes a time when you need to suck up your emotions and find ways to function around them. While fixated on this thought, I realized that this applies to me as well.
I offer myself very good advice, but I very seldom follow it.
I need to pipe down and move forwards. Sometimes when the internet draws all of my attention, I go looking at couches and coffee tables. Ah, what fine motivation. The idea of moving out of this town and away from the same people excites me. More important than that, the idea of moving away from this disposition is what really makes me happy. A NEW START. No longer will my classmates know me as who I have been rather than who I am currently. No longer will I be without a job and without money. I’m looking forward so far that present-day experiences feel like distant memories.
I’ve been realizing something about myself (this week in particular). I’ve learned that I am not the conventional picture of what beautiful is. So-so, it has been said. I know that I’m always judgemental of my own appearance (as we all are), but it becomes reality when my feelings are being reinforced by other people.
Usually in the smallest of ways
Or in direct insults.
I don’t like the feeling that this realization has developed in me. I also don’t like this need I have to feel beautiful. Shouldn’t I be above such immature feelings? Why should my face matter? Why should my body be slim? And why should I feel unloved because of this? What a typical frame of concerns that I harbor here.
I’ve also realized that I don’t think quite as quickly as I’d like to. Shouldn’t I be able to complete a literary analysis in an hour? Shouldn’t I be able to improvise a little bit faster? My mind is too cluttered with all the things that I’ve been keeping so close. Sometimes I’m embarrassed to write, even privately.
In fact, I’ve deleted 2/3 of my words from this entry before posting.
Now that the snow is gone, I would like to feel happy, content, and safe. There must be something that I can do to keep from feeling this way again.
I’m ready to adventure in a new city and freeze my ass off in the process.
Gu’bye!
CLEARLY, I look fucking fantastic in the morning. I had a lovely weekend with my darling.
Oh, oh. And I got quite a bit of work done (finally). Really all I need to do is write for a while. Sometimes a small sentence or a thought can represent a concept so loaded that the only place to put it is on paper, a napkin, whatever I can get my hands on; and lately, “sometimes” has been coming quite often.
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girrlscout:^ would be me.
