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Updates, updates... We don't need no Steenking updates. |
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Writers, readers, fellow ******** internet vamps... Lend me your ear. I've got that pressure in my chest, a tingling in my arm... A pain in my stomach... And until five seconds ago, the back of my neck itched. Well, a good stretch fixes my arm, I'm just ******** hungry, so eating is going to fix my stomach (emphasis on the 'going to') ...But the pressure in my chest... Well, That would be emotions... Stress? I don't know what it is. But usually, writing in one of my several journals helps ease it, makes it go away. Maybe it's the therapy of writing (or in this case, typing) my thoughts down, maybe it's getting those thoughts out, maybe it's something completely different that I haven't had the mental capacity to figure out yet. No matter. I've been cleaning my room... At two o' clock in the morning... Because I can't sleep. Sure, the caffeine probably has something to do with that, but I don't really think it does. I think the caffeine would just keep me alert... I'd still be awake right now if I didn't have it.
What the ******** is going on? Why can't I enjoy the last few years of childhood I still have? Well, okay... That last question is answered quite easily. I don't have a few years of childhood left. I am already eighteen, as far as my mom is concerned. I am going to graduate high school in nine weeks... Ten weeks... I don't know. A few weeks. When I do, I am going to go straight and directly into college. Fun. But there's something funny about it. You see, I'm sixteen. I am definitely early in my graduation. But if, and even if it's through no fault of my own, I am late in graduating, my mom is going to get pissed off at me. Because, you see, I have told her that I'm afraid to grow up. And I am. I know already that childhood is good, golden, and that it's already gone. "Never ahead, ever behind, Yet flying swiftly past; For a child I last forever, For adults I'm gone too fast." Well, it's already gone. And now, just now, I am realizing that. I don't want it to be gone, but I don't want to be an immature adult. And I am already an adult. So I have to just let it go. That really sucks, though. That means I can't really be an avid gamer, because I am just going to suck at them... That means I can't listen to cool music, because I'm just 'trying' to be hip... That means I can't wear any really cool clothing, though I don't really want to. See, that I've at least accepted already. I am allowed to have opinions of my own... I am allowed to argue points on my own... I am allowed to make decisions of my own... I am independent, self-sufficient (emotionally speaking), and at least an interesting person to talk to. I personally like talking to myself. I don't really have to care if you like talking to me, though I'm sure you do. And if you don't, why are you reading my journal? Black mail material? That's not exactly smart... That's more... Smare with a T.
I suppose it's not so bad being an adult. I don't know though... I can't have my cake and eat it too? No, I can't have either because the cake was a lie from the beginning! Damn you, Cake! Why??!? I really want my fiance/wife to hit her period already. That will take a lot of stress off my body and mind... In fact, I think that is more of the reason for my stress than anything else. Everything else is just 'on the side...' That is the single most stressful thing happening to me right now. I could just curl up in a ball and cry my little eyes out. But the sphere is still here... What else is there? What else is troubling me? Oh, well there is always the simple little fact that my mom is married. Oh yes, that's right. Married. To Tom, no less. Now, I don't mind him as a person. He is a great guy, smart... Not too funny, but he's old so he's allowed to be not funny. He and my mom are fine with each other... Except for the fact that he radically changed her from the mother that I had as a kid. Yes, she was a bad person to herself, but she was still my ******** mother. Now, well... Now she's not. Now she's Danni Renee... Whatever her last name is now. Riddle, probably. Ha! That's funny. I'm going to call her Ms. Riddle from now on. She's going to think I'm talking about the Riddler. I'll have to be like "No, mom... Not The Riddler. Voldemort." She'll be like "Huh?" and I'll be like "Harry Potter... Skip it." And she'll be like "Uh huh... You're an odd duck, you know that?" ...You get the picture.
My mom's mom... Linda Sue and I were talking about Oklahoma on Friday. If you don't care about status, you can move over there for cheap. Cheap cheap. And I'm talking acres and acres of land, huge houses... Oh yes. I'm loving it. I want to go. I want to finish college first, but I want to go. Live in the wilderness, basically, sit outside with my woman and write... Then, even if she didn't have a period, I wouldn't trip on it. I don't think she'd trip at that point either. I hope she wouldn't trip. I want there to be a time when neither of us have to trip out over anything... Just relax, ya? Though... That sounds a lot like an old person, doesn't it? Would I get bored? No, as long as I have a writing implement and a supply of paper. I would be able to do so much like that... Especially if I didn't have to buy the house itself. If Linda-Sue bought the house and then I just inherited it or some such thing, than I would just be fine. Just fine indeed. But that's in the future. I suppose it's always good to have goals, right? Goals. Yes. That's good. But what about Scotland? Well, we save up money living there, and then move out all the way to there later on in life. We've got our whole life ahead of us... We don't have to rush things. We should never have to rush things.
I'm in the middle of an rp, and I'm listening to Dress to Kill... The sphere is still there. Thers' also a few other things going on around my body... The hunger was fake. No, wait... It wasn't. s**t. "******** nuts... Fed up with them, always. How I long for a grapefruit." Now I'm tired. This post is long enough... I'm done.
 Thorn the Mighty · Sun Mar 30, 2008 @ 11:17am · 1 Comments |
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