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- Yesterday was okay. I am stupid and insane. I shoot myself in the foot, constantly. Now I am in a corner somewhere deep in the bowels of the library with a laptop, tea, and a chocolate bar. Cozy? No, not with my foot bleeding all over the place. I passed my DJ test with flying colors and thought, oh, I could do a show called "Songs for a Broken Heart". If you can't find a job there in Seattle, why don't you move here? If I'm shooting my feet off all the time, why don't I move back to Seattle? Because. The same reason - sometimes, I click, then realize, what do I even have to say to you anymore? Maybe that's it. I won't make it through tomorrow, the world will end tomorrow at 3 when it becomes apparent to me that I've run out of time. This exactly, right now, this very second, is why I hate school and myself. I am not for this world. Why can't I be an artist? Why can't I have a sponsor? I could float around creating photographs in intense colors, I could float around writing vague words, just enough to make everyone wonder and want more. I could continue asking why, but you don't care. You saw my pictures, you read my stories, but you never told me what you thought. If I got a show on the radio station would you think highly of me? If I ran a half-marathon would you think highly of me? If I ignore you? If I talk to you? If I have a lot of friends? If I hermit myself all winter? If I listen to the music we liked? If I listen to music we didn't have together? If I move on? If I don't? Bang, bang. Other people don't procrastinate.
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