|
guitargurlpoet
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Isabel
Birthday: 4/7/1987
Gender: Female
Interests: I play guitar, write poetry, Love to read and write music/poems. And most of all I love to sing.
moonray31.livejournal.com ---- Check it out.
Expertise: Singer/songwriter
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  Moonray31
Yahoo:  guitargurlpoet
Member Since:
6/29/2003
|
|
| For some unknown reason I have found myself typing away on my online journal again, I can't seem to keep a thought for more then a few seconds because I have this constant feeling of stress and exhaustion. The future has begun to catch up on me, it has enveloped my entire thought process. I need to find a way out of my overprotective parents, it is an embarrassment to still live with them at my age and depend on them financially. It makes me feel like a sixteen year old again, and I truly don't like that feeling.
Moving out means having to give up this comfort life and trade it in for independence and some possible financial worries. Is it worth it? Should I possibly compromise my education and school for independence, to be able to make my own important decisions without having to worry about my parents approval?
I think it is worth it, I cannot be dependent on them for the rest of my life. If they so decide to be mature adults about the situation and decide to keep paying for college, then my worries could be quelled (at least for a short time).
Things I have to do this year
Save money, at least 3,000 dollars
Get a new job
Find a place to live, possibly find a room thats being rented or rent my own place and get a roomate
(hopefully)Continue with college, find a way to still graduate by 2010 and work my ass off to be able to support myself
Once I move out, stay on good terms with my parents
Do not be discouraged, accomplish my goals
| | |
| I have not written anything online in over six months, sometimes i wonder why i still write online journals and i realize its just the habit of having the secret part of me in public. this is the one place i can free write my thoughts and not worry about seeing peoples faces as they take the time to read my rantings. I feel hidden from the world in plain view, which is ridiculous to think about. one quick Google search of my pseudonym and and or screen name and you can find out all the freaking websites I am have signed up for using that name.
| | |
| I'm over analyzing your words, looking up every single word in the dictionary; hoping that there might be a completely different meaning to all them (they are so masterfully placed side by side to form some beautiful poem or story). Do your last words mean this is all over?
| | |
| I'm having some form of psychosomatic reaction to what I've experienced in the past few weeks. I'm full of mixed emotions and doubting my ability to be able to handle anything properly. I miss our friendship.
| | |
| A string of incoherent words uttered by me, when I try to explain to you what's going through my head. A long pause follows my rantings... silence always seems to be the best option when your mind races after hearing an unexpected confesion (although confesions are rarely expected). I knew something was wrong the moment you said I'm sorry. It's about 2 a.m. and I suddenly find myself wide awake. The dreaming world on the other hand, those people still in bed, they'll probably be asleep for another 5 hours while I pace about my room.
Quickly I go for the wine hidden behind the pile of clothes in my closet, I basically down two glasses in the span of 5 minutes. What you have to love about drinking is every swallow is an irrevocable decision, your charging ahead trying to gain control of the game. Every swallow is a definite first step down some road. I call it a nice little window of misery that helps you enjoy your real life. Usually when I get like this, so full of feelings and emotions, my first thought is suicide. But comitting suicide has begun to seem like another aggressive plan to fix my life, just like breaking a mirror that shows you the truth. Or killing the bearer of bad news, any emotion at this point seems like a useless way to deny the truth. Any action I may take from this point on, just means I'll start over with another doomed stupid dream. You cannot be the same person all your friends know, and the great glorious person you want to become. Not at the same time. The American Dream: to make your life into something you can sell. It seems to be more often then not, that the mark of a very young soul is to try and fix the world. To attempt to save everyone from their portion of misery. You were that to me.
Am I being selfish? Childish? I believe all feelings derive from some prime childish emotion. So to say I'm being childish, just means I'm acting as a human should and can only act.
We are all permament, but this life is not. We are only visiting and were brought here to suffer, I can accept that. If you can accept that, you can accept anything that happens in the world. The irony of it all is that if you can accept that, you will never suffer again. Instead you'll run towards torture, you will enjoy pain.
| | |
|
