I don’t know. My thoughts are usually gibberish in some way or another. Now to put them into words….I have to un-empty my mind…
ಠ_ಠ
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You know what? I hate school. I sound like some kind of whining elementary school kid, but I think I actually liked school back then. These days there is just too much unnecessary competition and force-feeding of information that I am otherwise not interested in. What the hell are credits anyway? Invisible…TALLIES, for some random asshole to judge me on. And you know what irks me the most? I care about these subjective little things. I mean, if I had it my own way I’d eat cake all day while wasting my life on facebook and criticizing bad porn while shrieking about some pretty guy a decade older than me, and watch dramas where I feel like a developing pedophile for thinking, “my gosh that kid is so damn cute, he’s going to grow up beautifully” BUT WAIT, I’m not looking at them through sexual lenses!
I’m just an artist who likes ogling pretty things. Well I say artist, but all I do is doodle DON’T JUDGE ME =_=
Let me recount my dreams. I wanted to be a singer. Then an illustrator. Then an actress. Then a dancer.
I can do none of these things. Illustrator’s probably the one with the biggest possibility of happening but these days, for some reason everyone can draw. Whatever happened to the times when people would cheer from happiness simply from successfully drawing pseudo-penises using geometric shapes?
I thought I’d start working hard once college came around and I had time to consider specific subjects more seriously but.
I blame this on my senior year. I decided to come out of the closet. Not the sexual orientation closet, the social closet. I wonder when the meaning for “closet” became so entrenched in homosexuality. Anyway, I started saying narcissistic things for the fun of it, because somehow narcissistic behavior is hilarious rather than disturbing and rendering one fit for psychological treatment, but somehow, somewhere along the way I became a real narcissist.
You reap what you sow, right?
I mean, I always did kind of like debating inner turmoils in front of the mirror, but I don’t believe I ever felt the need to stare at my own reflection for 15 minutes straight, and whenever I had the chance.
But it’s not my fault, I’m beautiful. I should stop eating cream puffs and ramen so often, but
You know what I find interesting? It seems that the number 4:44 is quite attached to my existence. Why is it that almost every time I check the time digitally, it’s 4:44, am or pm? Heyyy, draft saved at 9:44:40 pm. I wonder what numbers everyone else is associated with? It’s interesting, the triple digits. Like when I bought groceries and the total came out to $6.66 and the cashier, who was presumably of some Christian faith, looked at me uncomfortably. (థ ౪ థ) Relax, missus, the devil doesn’t eat avocados. But I wouldn’t know.
I. QUIT MY JOB! Which means I’m now free and poor. Broke. No more cream puffs. Actually I think pastries are just one of those things one should never refrain from for the sake of savings. But who am I kidding, that was me in junior high. I was remarkably more fit at the time too, I should note. God, I should stop thinking about food every other minute of my life. It’s not healthy to be thinking about lunch during class and dinner during the next class. I can’t quite figure out if I’m more hedonist or nihilist. But I’m definitely a sadist. In mental affairs anyway. I love watching people squirm. Oops, this part of my thought process should probably not be open to the public eye, but I’m too lazy to hit the damn backspace button. They knew all about this when they designed the keyboard, yeah? Bastards knew that pinkies are annoying and tiring to operate. Though to be fair, the backspace button requires moving the whole hand and is practically impossible for me to reach by simply extending my pinky so I guess there’s no longer an excuse for my laziness.
I should stop conversing with myself and go mindlessly surf the internet.
Also, this piece of shit website needs to understand the implications of daylight saving. It’s 11pm.
Edit: Wait oops I forgot to think about this college semester and all that. Hey, it’s 11:11pm! That aside, I just wanted to say that while I was reading that piece by Gandhi for anthropology class, I thought “man, this guy’s a narcissistic…pretentious…”
Maybe Bellamy is right in saying that this is simply reflective of our views as a generation. But the writing just circled authoritatively as he defended an argument that didn’t seem so convincing on paper to himself, which is why there were so many defenses in every paragraph. It was like listening to someone convince himself that his view is correct while preaching to everyone else. Am I too cynical? Was the problem simply his style of writing?
No doubt classes can be interesting, but as you can see from the rest of the monologue, it’s hard to concentrate when I have conversations with myself in this never ending loop. Complete focus on someone other than myself for more than 30 minutes is really hard to handle.
Which is to say, I don’t know how I’ll handle 5 classes at once in the next semester.
