It’s amazing how much living can take up your time, like geez it’s almost like I’ve orphaned my blog.
It has been sitting here patiently waiting to be visited and I have ignored it for months. ok ok it’s not human but still, I find that writing helps me de-stress, and lately the stress has been tearing away at me like a miniature saber tooth tiger in my brain.
Then I realise “oh I havent really written anything lately”
When stress comes knocking some people punch walls, kill kittens or do drugs to de-stress.
I do this silly little thing called writing.
something satisfying comes from writing. especially poetry when you have a lot of emotion to let out.
Not that I show anybody my poetry, it would probably make my english teacher hurl at the sight of my stanzas and limericks and lack of rhymes. but who really cares?
It’s for me, so maybe when I’m six feet under the ground or in outer space (who knows how they will dispose of bodies when it comes time for me to kick the bucket) maybe some little granddaughter or great great great granddaughter will open up my diaries, and seriously come to the conclusion that her ancestor was a legit nutcase.
my thoughts are not like clock work. If you have read my writing before you will nod your head in agreement and wonder why this kid is in grade twelve and not in grade three still. or if you have been in my presence for more than three minutes you will realize that yes, this kid is not normal.
So I am not exactly positive that my writing will help me pay the bills, it’d be convenient because I could be like J.K. Rowling and write on napkins in a restaurant and then end up sleeping on gold infused satin sheets….
Not that money is what I am striving for. I just think that if your career involved something that was stress reducing you could prevent stress from happening because you’re getting paid to relieve your stress already.
haha I am brilliant. But here’s the stressful part. Who would wanna read my daily scribbles. I am not like Charlie brown or Kim Kardashian, I don’t have a way “in” already.
I am just one of those measly artists who takes any opportunity to get paid for what shes loves, no matter how many cats she has to fight against to get that last piece of pizza laying in the back alley in some dreadful slum because I WILL NOT WORK AT MCDONALDS. Hah just kidding, I’ll make sure to find a nice place to be unemployed. Maybe near an Italian restaurant.
Damn, can’t eat pasta.
hmm maybe behind a chinese restaurant?
or maybe I should just work hard to get a job;
yah that sounds like a better idea.
But I must say a “Lady and the Tramp” style dinner date would be romantic in a cheap university student sort of way.
So what am I writing about? I have no clue? Oh right orphaning my blog. and how I shouldnt really orphan it because this orphan helps me out a lot. You could say I am one of those highly sensitive artistic people who talk too much and have this skill of taking on to much and then burning out like a light bulb.
So what keeps ping ponging through my mind is one simple thing…
What the hell am I going to do when I move out of my parent’s well fluffed, safe, food filled, toilet paper always on the roll nest?