8:21 am - Thursday, Nov. 21, 2002
Song:
Draw whenever the mood prompts you. Put everything you��re feeling into that picture. I want to. I want the ability to do just that. To write here everything I��m thinking this morning and then use the next page to artistically convey that. I fear I��m just not that good.
Adam��s going to come sit by me now, and drive me nuts by reading over my shoulder. It��s his way, one of his my characteristic flaws. We all have them. Is that what makes a person walking art? Because if there isn��t art of the person, how can there be art at all?
I watched couples in the hall today; because I��m at school to early to do much of anything besides sit in the library and type. It wasn��t the sad; I wish I had a boyfriend, sort of watching. I just puzzled over who they were and what they were doing and why they were doing that. In the hall. At school.
Adams talking about peoples views on communism. I don��t care. I��m not intellectual, though I debate the politics and know what I��m talking about because I take the time to learn, because I��m too paranoid about what other people think of me. So I spend time making myself out to be better than I am. Makes me out to sound like a terrific person, doesn��t it?
Adam left. I remember who he used to be when we dated for a year and a half, but he��s different now, and I don��t know why I should care. We broke up almost a year ago; I��ve gotten over it. But now I��m alone again in a room full of people. I know most of their names, and almost off of their faces, yet I don��t know them.
I need to get out of the habit of cracking my knuckles, it makes me hands ache. I��m trying to make time pass with words and finger bending, so I may go up to the dark room. I dark solace in its smells and darkness. Then I can print what I need for photography class and go to art. My only class of difficulty today is pre-calculus. Once again I will sit with no idea what we are doing.