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I don't think the way that i used to anymore and i kind of want to get back to it. On one hand, i suppose i should learn what the hell to do with all this maturity, and allow evolution to occur. on the other hand i feel like i should stomp my foot and declare that i don't wanna.
I'm not journaling enough.
Everyday life has barged in and taken up residence on my couch, drinking all my good wine and deleting all my TiVo programming. For instance i have the time to write, and i'm not doing it, simply because i feel the need to fill my day with small inconceivable trivialities so that i don't feel like a lump. Depression is here in full swing and it's not going anywhere until i get a job i can like, which won't happen because i am currently having a crisis of employment identity. I want to be a cop, but at the same time, i dont want to deal with the restrictions and hypocrisy therein. the police force holds a certain ideal in my mind, and possibly only in my mind, and if i can't live up to the ideal, i shouldn't throw time effort and schooling into trying. alas the police is only a step in getting where i would actually like to be, analyzing handwriting. maybe to get a job in forensics, you don't have to do the street cop thing, but i doubt it. i could try going to school. im not doing that because i dont have the money or the time. i need to make money to live, and the time it takes to do that just gets in the way of the schooling time, which holds a much more strict schedule than i first imagined. I want to be a teacher, but at the same time it will feel like a cop out. no pun intended. On top of all this, i do not want to end up in an inner city school. the kids need help, but i dont feel like dragging someone kicking and screaming into education. i want to try to facilitate those who are looking for that spark. though i suppose i was dragged kicking and screaming through te hoops to my shiny 3.2 gpa. 3.2, pretty much looks like you failed your way through high school in the job market. Then i think, maybe i'll wait tables. i can do that i think. although that includes remembering things and talking to people, neither of which i do particularly well.
journaling takes a lot longer than it used to. my world, and thus its problems are so much bigger. are they? i guess thinking my mom was dying is probably as important as what i want to do for a living. but what Tony said about Matt who kicked Tony out of the band, really doesn't matter anymore. I barely talk to either of them these days. Tony because he hates all form of communication, and Matt because, sadly, i have no real interest. He hasn't been able to be real with me since we dated and he told all our guys friends that i let him touch my breast. In and of itself, not a problem, i did let him touch my breast, among other things. The upsetting part was that i had done more with at least one of the guys there and well, i'm not into scorecards. I wish him luck on his quest for a psychology degree.
That's it, i'm going to go read The Virgin Suicides and live vicariously through other people's abilities.