What’s left for me to ponder upon. The foggy mirrors of my bathroom revealing your unkempt message, and the foggy windows of my car on a cold day, revealing your rebellion against my “I hate oil on my windows” deal.
What’s left is a trace, a symbolic trail in which I want to run on. Patience is key.
Perhaps I still am foolish and often times, more optimistic than one gives me credit for. That or my sleeplessness of two nights have left it’s evil poison within my system, forever to contemplate. Perhaps I am rambling, words are flowing in a direction and I have no control of stopping it. Perhaps time…
“When my father came to his 85th birthday, we all asked him what he wanted, anything, we wanted him to treasure his day. His whispered breath muddled the words, ‘I wish for more time.’”
again comes the procrastination. I’m studying, I really am, I understand most of the concepts but because I have horrible test anxiety, I’m going to freak myself out until we actually sit in that room.
Last night at Rosanna’s everyone passed out, Rosanna, April, Carlo. Justin and I were wide awake scanning pages, working problems out, reading, reading, reading. We were running on cheese fries and coffee (because that’s all I had for the whole day :/)
We were up all night, with a 45 minute break in which Rosanna’s roommates radio alarm went off on full blast, both doors closed, the music was saturating the air around Justin and I, it was honestly like we were sitting by the stereo itself. I STILL do not get/comprehend/understand HOW IN THE WORLD she slept through it for 30 minutes. Then it went off again for another HOUR. the 45 minutes intended for our break was ruined and I ran back upstairs to my apartment to find refuge, which was utterly pointless in the fact that my roommates kept me plenty awake.
defeated, battered from volley ball, exhausted and mentally about to destroy someone, I sat up reading the same chapter until the words became meaningless.
Currently I’m in the eating commons with Justin, he’s in the middle of his nap and I am typing away any anxiety that might still be lingering in my system. My audition is in an hour and my fear is that my voice will not make it through from the abuse I put it through for the past 4 ish days.
A bottle of fiji water in one hand, a pencil in the other; if bear grylls can make it through the wilderness with freaking twigs and animal piss, then I can get through this hell of a week.
Amen.
panic attacks that set in along with frustration, stress and sleeplessness only calls for everyone to stay out of my way.
Art history is in a good 6 hours
Chem test in exactly 12 hours
Chem Review in 7 hours
Auditions in 9 hours
during the times of extreme panic I use to call comfort in something. Now a days it’s me, the closing room and my mind. CRAZYY
I thought it was a joke about staying up endlessly weeks on end to make up for grades in the past. Nope I’m in the middle of it. What happened to deferring exams, exemptions for beautiful behavior, spotless attendance and a 85 + average in a class? I’m actually SHAKING, from being up for so long, I did get a 30 minute nap, I think that did something okay, but then we had a volley ball game, stayed out to IHOP
and now I’m sitting in Rosanna’s apartment, with April, Carlo, Justin and of course, Rosanna cramming in the bits I’ve missed in my week of…well…week of being lost? I’m not sure, but I was in a labyrinth for a long long time.
Still am actually and now I’m watching my sister go through the same thing, how weird. It’s gonna be a hell of a month, but I’ll push through one way or another. puhaha, on dailybooth, my eyes look DEAD. Don’t laugh at me, I try my best to look alive during the day, but until then ZOMBIE MODE.
I have a thumb bleeding from Baby Emmy waking up cranky from a nap because a text message set her off to bite the crap out of my thumb.
moving on to new medication and moving doctors, avoiding surgeries and check ups, running away by staying put.
My head is filled with too many thoughts.
A man with a daughter. A single man with a daughter. A drug addict with his daughter. A man who will go to no ends necessary to fulfill his need of a high, at the expenses of ignoring his child, to the expenses of stealing from family, work, etc.
there are so many options left to save him. The value of his life right now? I’m not sure. The question is, how does he talk his way to my mother’s heart and yet my father sees right through his bullshit? How is it that we allow him to keep his daughter as a protective bubble so his mind can easily wander into things that aren’t allowable? How is it that we watch him deteriorate in front of us, out of fear that he’ll do something irrational. Right now foster care seems safer for his daughter than it is for her to grow up and watch her father’s mind become less than of a simpleton’s. It’s tough to live so far away and to hear these things, to be in the middle of bickering arguments etc. He lives each day to find a high, to be angry at the world because he is a victim, and single little victim.
All I got to say is, work, work your ass off, I would never allow his daughter watch him do this.
ANOTHA TOPIC;
Our family dislikes “Michelle(s) and Michele(s)”
I didn’t get to see my baby girls, I didn’t get turkey/a thanksgiving feast because of family issues and I almost had my glasses smooshed by my cousin.
My credit card was declined and I lost all incentives to eat, thank you Ninja Assassin.
OVERALL though, I’ve missed my family. I’m happy I single handedly drove our asses here.
So this is the breakdown. 5 hours worth of traffic to come home, night blindness is my downfall, which turns the roads into a dangerous game of follow the tail-lights. From here I come home and daddys work schedule keeps him away while mother and I nap on the couch. Thanksgiving day, the plan was to go to Houston and spend time with family, both sides. Due to the work schedule, my parents argue a bit.
Next thing you know they don’t want to go to houston, upset and determined, I take my little brother and off we voyage to our families.
TBC my eyes hurt.
