Fact: I must thank you thousands

Fact: "My heart feels like it's going to explode"

In truth, I haven't felt like I've had a tangible heart in such a while. Today I noticed that every once in a while, I'll place my fingers against my jugular just to keep the beat and find concrete and physical evidence that I biologically exist. I feel like I am physically present, but my mind is lost somewhere in a nameless land far far away.

I have not gotten the rest that I need. I spend my nights pouring myself over text books, even though I have no homework. It's sad no? I feel like I've become an insomniac; I don't even bother retreating into my room until at least 11:30pm nowadays.

I feel so jaded and dis-illusioned. I feel like dropping art altogether. I no longer have the drive nor the passion to even bother with such. As my mentor lectured, my mind left. I just remained sitting in me seat and doodling pointless things upon the margins. The whole time I was just thinking about AP Art the following year. It will be my senior year. Should I really bother? I am no longer pursuing art. But if I don't, I'm throwing away my talent (like everyone says). How could I become a successful artist if I'm constantly losing my drive and myself?

Today I feel like I'm having a brain aneurism. My head is pulsating, and all the Excederin in the world can't seem to fix it. I felt a jolt in my left temple today during religion class. Then it disappeared, and then came back again. It's as if someone is talking a chisel and attempting to carve something into my mind. What would I do if I had one in reality?

In Advanced Drawing today, I likened the thought of school to an extremely subdued verison of Hitler. Intsead of indirectly massacring myself and the student masses, it seems to be erroding my mind and will with its repition. I feel so devoid and empty; I feel like a failure.

The notion of college seems to be constantly torturing me: prancing upon my neck and chest until I gasp, and sitting upon my shoulders until I falter with the overbearing weight. I am dubious at the idea that I will be accepted into college at all; even though I've worked so hard to be in the top 10% since before I could remember. The boy my parents constantly compares me to is now a senior, and has just applied for Yale. I'm sure that he will be ushered onto the campus with the utmost reverence. And what shall become of me? Well, I'll probably end up at some second rate community college that no one has ever heard of.

I feel apathetic and stark of a feeling and emotion. I was faced with an occurence not long ago. Whenever one is faced with such a situation, one inevitably goes on to question their whole being. I abhor this; I feel inadequate. In the beginning, I was apathetic, I agreed and bobbed my head repeatedly in mock understanding so it would be over and done with as fast as possible. Moments later, I would feel melancholy and doleful. And then, after that, I was overcome with wrath. Today, I am apathetic.

I hope to be out of this rut soon.

Fact: I'm so tired of waiting

It's been quite a while since I've last written no? Every few days or so, I have a thought or an idea that I would like to write about, but I always have no time to come on and write it.

My days seem to be growing shorter and shorter, and I feel like there is no time left in the day to do anything. By the time I blink and open my eyes once more, that day has flown by me, leaving that airy feeling within the center of my being, that feeling that a part of me is missing, though I know completely and fully that I am entrely and choately present. I feel like my life is passing me by, and it's so rapid, I can't grab on. I don't have the strength to hold it fast anymore. The first semster of school is done, and has long since passed. Maybe I'm just feeling the recoil of the shock from report cards. Maybe I'm just tired; I need some rest.

Like a friend of mine said a few days ago, I wish we as humans never needed to sleep. Imagine all the possibilities that could be done with all that time. However, I love the existence of sleep, I would never wake up if I could. Though, I just wish it could be 'productive'.

My tuberculosis test came back negative; that is a good thing. However, I can't help but feel a slight tinge of dismay wrapping itself about my throat like a scarf on a bone chilling day. Maybe this is horrible, and ridiculous of me to say, but some sick and twisted part of me wanted to have it. I cannot explain to you why I would have such a notion. But the fact is true that I did.

Our school drama has gone off well, and tonight is our third show. It will be followed by a cast and crew party held at a cast member's home. I feel like I'm growing closer and closer to these people with each passing moment. They've managed to pull me into a different comfort zone. Usually I'm unaffectionate. reclusive, and avoid human contact such as hugging and etc., but with them, I'm constantly wrapping my arms around someone in an embrace or slapping hands for a high five. This fact makes me smile.

However, there's always a certain group of underclassmen that seem to have no purpose in our activities. They keep to themselves, and seem to believe that the backstage of our production is a place for them to hang out with another, while they provide no helping hand and seem to run away from existence to avoid being called upon. They are irksome because they take up space, and refuse to participate. So I must ask them: "Why are you here?" I don't expect much of a response.

I've known you for more moments and lengths of time than I can count upon my fingertips. I don't feel like I can ever be enamored, or captivated by your presence. Do not fret. I will still hold you dear. But I must admit that some days, your existence escapes me. I'm remorseful and shamefaced to say that, but I must be truly honest, no matter how brutal and harsh the words may be. I wonder if it's congruent. I don't feel like I enchant you the way you dreamed that I would; I don't feel like I will ever captivate you.

I've found that some days I take upon the role of a wallflower, standing upon the periphery, quietly observing those around me. I find people to be extremely fascinating on those days.

Today, I feel like a murderer. One because the other night, one of my closest friends asked me a pshycological question, and my immediate answer caused him to deem me a possible sociopath. And two, because it seems like whenever I join a new site, it seems to die a few weeks later.

Ah, such is my life.
But how is yours?
How are you doing?