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| I'm screaming on the inside and my mind is trying to talk myself through this. No, it's trying to talk myself out of this. I feel as if I'm on the brink of death, more so than when I literally, physically was. Everything in me is screaming no, this cannot happen, no. Literally screaming. I have never felt something so strong, I've never felt so weak to some unseen force. It is unbearable. Why does this have to happen?
Because this is what is right.
&that trumps all.
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| A little more than 2 weeks and I will be back in Nevada.
A little more than 2 weeks and I'll be leaving a part of me that's locked in the past. I have a good thing here.
Seasoned with a certain nonchalance.
It's getting harder and harder to leave.
But he won't let me stay. Independance.
He insists on it. | | |
| When thinking about moving and going to hair school.... it doesn't feel wrong. I remember saying once it was a cop out.... &it is. I don't plan on doing hair forever, it's a way to pay for higher adventures. But there's something else that's a cop out too. Going to school. I'm pretty sure I'm passing my classes, but all it is memorization, repetition. I did that for years because I had to, but I don't have to anymore. I've found myself thinking with fondness and excitement when I think about having time to do things I've been waiting so long to do. I have an artists soul. I am intrested in beauty, art, aesthetics, puzzles, meaning, philosophy, hidden layers, passion. I'm sick of denying that for a piece of parchment that tells me that I'm qualified for so and so job. I'm sick of hearing that a title will get me security, a job, a wad of cash. I want to pursue my passions. &when I find my niche, I'll know it. &I'll thrive in it. Everything else doesn't matter. The only reason I'll ever go back to school again is for something im passionate about, or to study business.
It's never a bad idea to know how to manage a business &market yourself. This may all be disasterous. But its not over til I'm dead.
Life is constant rebirth. Constantly re-inventing yourself.
I'm not scared of that. | | |
| I spent last night sipping martinis, cosmopolatins, and manhattans until 5 a.m.
Woke up, slipped on my shoes, went to school. Power lush. | | |
| Some tidbits that have been keeping my concious restless for the past few days: Sam: "You know... eventually you're going to have to learn to care what the other person is feeling. You can't always just expect them to understand." Mike: "One of the happiest times I can remember is when we went to the art park at night. &we didn't have sex." My inability to manage my time for everyone that I care about. My inability to sufficiantly comfort Sam.
The feeling of wanting to escape. Morning.
Mike: "Don't hate me."
Me: "Why would I hate you?"
Mike: "Because you're sober."
The statement made last night that I am a robot &alcohol is liquid emotion for me. I haven't been to the gym in 2 days.
My new bikini &big floppy sun hat just came in the mail.
Pictures to be posted promptly. The feeling of being guilt-tripped. The feeling of guilt. | | |
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