I'm Still Alive

Everything's fine here. My living accomodations have certainly improved. Feels good to live with someone I can talk to and not feel the need to avoid. The fact that we know the same people from school, and the fact that some of them are over most of the time is nice too. These are the people I love, and it's great to not feel separated from them. Not to mention the neighbourhood is nicer (in one of the most expensive parts of the city), and once I get a real bed and somewhere to store my clothes, I'll be in business. I don't think air mattresses are designed to be slept on for weeks at a time.

This is coming in the middle of a hectic school storm. I have a presentation in just about every class, need to write a short film script, and most of all a monologue. A monologue that shows the true heart of me. You see, I'm a private person. I don't like to think about myself that way, but I am. That's why it's hard for me to write these. I just don't think I can truly, in every sense of the word express my feelings here. Fear of judgment, I suppose, but just think to yourself, when was the last time your told someone how your truly feel about something (hint: it's probably the thing you least want to tell them.) I just can't bear myself like that. But, that's what acting is. Exposing your true heart for the world to see. Isn't that what you want to see in someone if you go to a performance?

I wrote a monologue already, but it wasn't good enough. I don't know, maybe if I just say what I want to right off the bat, I wouldn't have to reveal bits at a time, and really making things harder than they need to be. It's like sculpting a statue, you keep chipping away the little bits, when it's much less work, but much more risky, to chip off a huge chunk all at once. And now I'm afraid I'm wasting my creative energy here instead of where it needs to be focused. But I can't ignore my adoring public, now can I?

Recently I feel the "pulling-in-all-directions" feeling that I've felt in recent years. I think moreso now that I know literally twice the people I knew seven months ago. The people and what I do here are priority number one. So, sorry back-homers, if you have to wait a bit for me. Or if I ignore you for a bit, not because I hate you, but because I'm taking care of business elsewhere. So cut me a bit of fucking slack here, because I'm doing all I can. And those fuckers either above below or to either side of me are listening to that fucking pulsing music again that keeps me up all night. I know it's a Friday, but holy hell, I want to sleep.