The beginning of a new year. The beginning of a new life for me. What I thought would be a year that I start out afresh, on my own, out in the big world, off to University and learning my way. No. Apparently that life is not for me yet. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I usually don't make new year's "revolutions". Stupid things that are doomed only to fall through. "I resolute to lose ten pounds", "I resolute to get better grades", "I resolute to tell my crush how I feel". Yeah, right. Who really actually goes through with these things?? I was having a conversation with a friend of mine about this, Jonathan. We talked and made a bet. A bet that we would make a harmless resolution and see who would keep it going the longest. I'm not going to tell you what his resolution was because it's irrelevant to you. Mine was to get a blog going and keep it going for as long as I can. I have a problem that I thought this would help solve. I don't tell people my feelings. Almost never. I just don't feel comfortable opening up like that. I don't know why, but I don't. Even with those I love, I can't. It doesn't matter if anyone reads this, even though I know no one will. Probably because I'm not going to tell anyone about it. But hey, that's another problem for another day. Just the fact that I'm writing this is kinda helping. Just getting me used to ranting about me. I'm a better listener. Not that good of a talker. So I thought this would help.
I guess I was inspired. Inspired because I'm a typical Western teenager. I'm so hard-done-by, no one understands me, my life is shit, etc... and I must get the word out. But seriously. My parents are definitely trying to run my life. I have been told, on numerous occasions, that I am not going to University next year. I have tried to talk to them. Justin tells me that I should try talking like a civilized person, no screaming (a terrible feat, I will not lie), just sit down and talk like an adult. I tried. My dad walked in the room, asked what me and my mother were talking about, and then promptly replied: "But she's not going to University next year." Not even three words had I spoken to him before he shut me down. It really pisses me off because I had done so much research into Universities and programs and stuff and they just looked right over that. Didn't even consider it. They are pissed because I don't have a job, but then, I'm pissed because I don't have a job. I hate it. Even fucking Tim Hortons won't hire me.
It feels like someone is trying to live my life for me. I wanted to get out and do what I love this year. But no, I can't. I have to go back to fucking High School where I won't know anyone and be a social outcast bandie and be miserable for a whole 'nother fucking year. I'm going to be so miserable. I just know it. I'm miserable now just thinking about it.
And no offense meant, but whenever I see Justin taking a picture or talking about a shoot he did, or something Lisa taught him, or his plans, I feel so . . . . little. Unworthy, I guess. He has a plan set out and he's already on the road to success. Doing what he loves and he's going to do it. I know he is. And it kind of depresses me when I see what he's planned and I think about what I haven't planned. I feel like I'm years behind him. He's been planning this out ever since he discovered Photography. And me?? The only thing I've done that can constitute as making a plan is gaping at animation movies with my mouth hanging wide open like I'm mentally unsound. Wishing with my whole heart that I could be a part of it. Wishing that I could do things like that. To make something come to life, to click a button and have it spring up, ready to go . . . . something I could create . . . . something that could be all that I never was.
Or when I'm filming, creating a scene deep from my soul. In control of some fictional characters' life . . . . playing Creator . . . .
But I digress. I know that I'm just worrying, that he'll be fine, but I'm worried about Justin. But I have work to do. Like, I really have work to do. I have two seminars, two essays, and a marketing plan to write before Monday. Well, sortof before Monday. I'll write later, possibly tomorrow.
So sweetly she bade me adieu,
I thought that she bade me return.
No comments:
Post a Comment