hum drum

I don't know what to do with myself. Classes start tomorrow, though i can't say I fully grasp that idea, as ballet is my only one of the day. I feel as though I should at least be studying, be...thinking. But I'm not. I'm not pondering, wondering, questioning. I'm just sitting. I must be dehydrated. I don't know what to do. Is there anything to do? People are nice here, but all in all I'm left wholly unimpressed. No one has changed. I probably haven't either, but one of these days shouldn't the people who have always called me "so mature" for my age catch up?







I'm not so different from these people, but maybe I'm one of those who others sigh and shake their heads about, that have no social skills. humph.

My body has been overheated all day on top of a case of the sniffles. off to a grimmacing start.

tick tock

I've had a stomach ache for two days. I do not want to go back to school. I certainly did not want Sam to leave. I do not want to be here anymore. Yes, I do have a raincloud floating over my head. I don't feel good about myself, I'm not motivated, and I'm not very happy. Too bad I can't write a poem to save my life, I'd be destined for posthumous fame.

mrs. au-tumnus.

I want it to be cool enough to wear jeans. A sweater. My new cap.

inner ears

I swung on a swing today. The sun was setting, I kicked off my flips and started pumping. I always forget that you really do get high just by pumping your legs, leaning your body into the fall and rise; in the beginning the going is just so slow. However, you certainly do get to flying.

I've always suffered from motion sickness. Carnival rides were always enjoyable, though I often payed for them, doubled over in front of a trash can filled with cotton candy holders, popcorn bags and elephant ear wax paper. When I went to mexico and was fortunate enough to take the seas in a yacht, I became so sick I was nearly unable to enjoy myself. Green as you've ever seen a redhead, I was feeding the fish until we returned to the bay.

For the first time in my life, swinging has to be added to the list of things that make my stomach drop. Flying back and forth, I began to think that I was so much better adjusted when I was young. OH the thoughts thought when swinging.

We pride ourselves in maturing with age. More emotionally mature, we think through situations and pride ourselves in being so well suited to the world. Pishaw. That's why we need psychiatrists (I think everyone should be in therapy), take sleeping pills, and have troubling keeping people close. Children are ahead of the game. They're not even playing. Maybe a little regression wouldn't be bad in many cases. I will never again wear pigtails, but maybe I'll care a little less the next time I'm the only one over the age of eight in the wave pool.

sunlight

I cannot cannot cannot wait. I cannot wait for a cooler sun, a breeze from the ocean.

I cannot wait to be back in the classroom, to be reading from morning 'til night, to frequent the library more than I frequent my bed.

I cannot wait to be closer to the people I love. Well, only a few. To be in a place that is more hospitable to happiness, to love, to comfort.

I cannot wait to decorate my room, my own personal space. With florals and knit, sunlight and shade. Hopefully I'll find some art that is copacetic. Perhaps a tea set.

I'd like to buy some new shoes.

I cannot wait to see Samuel. My mind constantly searches the horizon, squints toward the sun to see the time elapse.

Unhappy is an understatement when it comes to describing my state of mind this summer, but I'm getting more and more excited at the thought of what lies ahead. Autumn colors, visits from my love, coffee and french and hats and leather and love and happiness.

I just heard the term, "get in, get off, get out." If i don't end up writing the column for my school paper I'm going to shoot myself. Not only do I have a lot to say, I think i can say it fairly well. Plus, it's the only satisfaction I would recieve out of next year. Harumph.

I have a friend who still dresses as though she is on her way to the first day of seventh grade. It shouldn't bother me, but it does. it does. answer me this; If my friend wears faded flared jeans and pink plaid tops should it bother me? Alas. Whether it should or not, as I said before, it does. She's very modest, very pure. I found a book today (when I bough the bell jar and a mix of music for midsummer nights - think lots of violins and piano) that was about the myth of purity. how the importance of purity has harmed teenage females. I could not agree more. I'd like to read the book.

crystal ball

I see myself walking hand in hand with the man i love. He's tan and strong from working in the sun and I'm tired and happy, leaning on him for strength. I have a few freckles but am mostly pale. Earth tones. Smiling faces. My future will be so wonderful.

success

though this blog as been a bit of a wishlist slash shopping bag slash link to the material world...

i donn cur

lipstick. presents for buffdays. a top. a hat. a bag. plusssss. I am nearly free.