| Current mood: | contemplative |
| Current music: | Rilo Kiley - A Better Son & Daughter |
I Want to Meet a Painter That's Not Pretentious
Time to try the online journal thing again, I guess. But annonymous this time. Having an outlet for those innermost thoughts is nice, and it's even nice when someone reads them, takes notice, and gives some kind of response (positive or negative, regardless, at least someone cares enough to have an opinion) but on the other hand it's not always nice when those people know you, live with you... I've had enough of doing it that way, so thusly, this new journal is annonymous.
I've been feeling like something of an enigma as of late. Last night I laid in bed for a good hour or two listening to The Miracle of '84 and trying to go to sleep. I felt like a sophmore in high school all over again. "I want to be a painter that's not pretentious, I want to see a rock and roll band that is inventive, I just want something to surprise me..." I just feel like a zombie sometimes. Get up, go to class, go to work, come home. And that's on days I even bother going to class.
I feel wrong complaining about anything. I have good friends, a good job, a girl I'm desperately in love with who just happens to love me too.. I should never have even the slightest feeling of discontent, ever.
Perhaps the past few days have just been a rough spot and it'll all get better. The air's getting colder, that always seems to have a bearing on these sorts of things.
Class is another story. I've found it so difficult to care about school in even the slightest form. I went to one class last week. Out of eight. A did have to miss a couple because of having to be at work four our HUD inspection, but still. I've been to both this week and I'm probably going to get my ass up in about twenty minutes or so and go to another one... Or maybe I'm not. I just don't have it in me, I really just don't. And my grades aren't even suffering. As far as I can tell I'm doing pretty decent in every class that I'm taking. I'm just scared that I'm going to do fine and then at the end of the semester have all my grades lowered like two letters because of attendance. But I just can't make myself go.
Okay. I'm going to go. And then I'm going to go to work. And then I'm going to come home, eat dinner, maybe play drums for a bit. Take Sally to the grocery store. And try to be positive.
t.
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