In The Middle

I started a blog on something meaningfull, then I started reading the scriptorium daily and gave up. My thoughts are too jumbled and smothered to make much sense tonight. I need fresh air and a good talk.

Failure

I write in much too simple terms. I write around the real issue until there is a moat to be filled with whatever useless information I can drum up. The real issue is... I am inadequately prepared for real life and it will always be a handicap to me. My mind is immature and has trouble adjusting to what is real. It cannot fathom the solid, the immovable. It only loves fluff. My mind would rather not hear your real thoughts, for they are far too disturbing. They make it contemplate its own existence, which cannot be had! I am a bad writer; I set out to write about words, and I end up writing about thoughts. This leads me to think that maybe the two are interconnected, somehow. Could we have words without thoughts and thoughts without words? I want to read Fahrenheit 451 and I enjoyed this afternoon immensely. That is all.

Almost

Its been almost a month since my last post! Fortunately, that's a good thing; I haven't been having very many Friday nights at home alone during which to question my purpose or my sanity. My life has sort of been going through metamorphosis. I don't think I got the job at Hume, oh well. I'm done with my Torrey interview, done with the SAT and I should know where I'm going to college by the end of next week. All I have left are my presentation, term paper, ACT and graduation. I'll probably work at SS and live at Disneyland over the summer. I've been reading a lot of life-changing books, and I feel really encouraged right now. Also, roadtrip in a few weeks? Fun. Life is weird. I like it. I got prints made of these two photographs and I am quite proud of how they turned out: