curled in corners. nose buried in books. flipping aimlessly through channels. clicking away on mr. dibble. speaking when spoken to. happy, happy, at peace.
not depressed, anything but. im seeking the positive. its not that i dont need anyone. i just want to need me more. and depend on other people less. i want to search within myself, rediscover me. i dont remember whom i was, i dont like whom ive become. this wild party animal with nothing to worry about apart from how shes going to wear her Aldo shoes without them killing her? this crazy naive child who only thinks about partying and guzzling beer and living it up with her boyfriend and her friends?
when did i became such a bimbo? when did i become so stupid?
my Aldo shoes are incredibly pretty. my creativity and my intellect is beautiful.
im taking a long long much needed sabbatical from the wild child. its time to realise that being young isnt only about hip hop nights at aziano. being young means realising how much potential you possess and swimming in that potential, sipping it sloooooooowly, letting it glide down your throat, like a mimosa on a hot summers day. the high i get from dancing till 3 am is terrific. i get a greater high from sketching and painting and one of my more talented seniors telling me "thats good, really really good". and urging me on to sketch some more, and telling me where i went wrong and how to fix it. until i sketch something thats perfect and she nods in approval. THATS a terrific high. who knows where that sketch is going to go, or if it’ll be used even. i dont care.
one day i will be too old to party, which is why im going to enjoy these youthful party times while they last. but one day, i will grow old and i want my talent to remain. and i want it to be good enough to sustain me when i am alone. through the cold times, and the dark days. ill want to wrap myself in words of my own poetry to keep me warm, id want the diary entires, the articles, the essays, the thoughts to guide me, to give me light. ill be too old to party, to guzzle down alcohol, to dance around swooshing hair and showing skin. heck, my feet might even be too wrinkled to fit into those damn Aldo’s.
today. tomorrow. yesterday.
i will let my creativity reign.
my mind is a sponge. let it absorb all it can while its still spongy.
in an earlier blog i proclaimed the end of plastic. its time i practice what i preach.
plastic thoughts ended some time ago. plastic actions end now.
i love my daddy and mommy. random, but it comes from a very un-plastic part of me. its pure crisp white paper.