![]() |
|
navigation
●
●
intro ![]() spokedelicous ★hipster★ there's a possibility all that i had was all i'm going to get... smorgasboard fuckable five 1. james mcavoy - even as ms. patricia 2. daniel radcliff - inclusive of swiss army corpse and igor 3. elijah wood - deviant 4. tom hardy - 5. tbd all of these are pasty white-boys. i officially have a type. extras picture gallery coming soon |
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
10:11 PM ● the things time forgets as i sit here, having read through some past posts, i find i miss this place. i don't know what it is about mindlessly chattering to people on the interwebz that makes me feel... better? you, nameless, faceless esoteric ideas of people cannot hurt me in any way (and i am sometimes oh so fragile). you cannot judge me for saying the wrong thing, you won't challenge me to be introspective. what i say goes, and you either read it or pass by. i've decided to keep writing in here. there are some complicated things that i think need to be written out, not in an academic way which i am want to do. where to start? i'll start at the beginning, or the middle of the beginning of the end. grampa died the summer of 2013. its taken me a long time to deal with it, and there are moments i still find my self tearing up at the mere mention of his passing. it sucked-- probably one of the worst summers of my young life. my car died, grampa died, my boyfriend's good school friend killed himself, and my great aunt died all in under a month. it was excruciating beyond measure. i'm not usually an emotional person, but these events shook me to the core. it enforced my own mortality, which in turn began to make me crazy. i blame a number of things on my sometimes overwhelming anxiety these days, and these certainly didn't help. i'm working through those issues though, clinically. i'm sure i'll need years of work to be able to breathe freely, and i'm willing to accept my own character flaws when i permitted these things to bother me. school is doing its best to kill me. it just seems to be a never-ending shit storm to which i may never escape. i've applied to a professional school-- education to be exact-- but i can't seem to find the marks i need to get into the program. it seems to be an impossible feat, one that i'm not entirely positive i actually want to do from time to time, but the overwhelming fear that i may never know what i want to do once i'm done my undergraduate paralyses me and i go numb at the thought. it's too late to turn back now, i guess? so here we are, at the end (and it's a metaphorical end, i'm not going to off myself), and i understand that i need this place. i need a location to expound my stupidity, even if it's just me reading it. but i think the best part of blogging is that i can just ramble, and no one can tell me i've used poor grammar because it's just me and i don't fucking care. |
|
xxxxxx (live) |