I feel like a freshmen all over again. . . but I know it'll be different because I won't have pennies chucked at my head while people tell me I have four more years of school left. *sigh* But all I know I can do is charge ahead with my smile that many say is cheery and try my damndest and that is what I plan to do.
*Walks ahead and around the corner. . .walks back. . .*
Starting tomorrow. . .
-_-
don't judge. . .
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Wait. . . It's MINE?
I look around me and all I can say is mine. Yes other words come to mind but for the most part that is the most frequent to pass through my mouth and my thoughts right now. It is all mine. MY stove, MY t.v, MY room and MY own place. . .
It scares me a bit but I don't think I want to change it. I may be scared at points but I feel like I made the right choice in having my own place. I make my own choices (and sometimes that may not be good, like my food) but they are mine and if it is a mistake then I must learn from it quickly. I think I learn best by doing.
I'll learn to live on my own, at my own pace now, and I can learn while doing it.
*breathes* so. . .
here we go. . .
It scares me a bit but I don't think I want to change it. I may be scared at points but I feel like I made the right choice in having my own place. I make my own choices (and sometimes that may not be good, like my food) but they are mine and if it is a mistake then I must learn from it quickly. I think I learn best by doing.
I'll learn to live on my own, at my own pace now, and I can learn while doing it.
*breathes* so. . .
here we go. . .
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Bearing the Load
I stand in the middle of the disaster that was my room and look around:
Posters are in the trash bag and rolled up if I wanted them; My guitar is sitting on the floor and not on my wall; my desk is gone and loaded up, my bed is littered with menial things from clothing to boxes filled with even more odd items; lastly I see the boxes at my feet, closed and ready to be entered into a vehicle to be shipped to my own place.
I sigh and am happy at the idea I've gotten this much work done. But as I look around again I can't help but think. . .
(Am I really doing this?)
I know the answer is Hell yes. I'm 18 and I may not know if I'm ready to be on my own. . . I feel like. . . It's either time to grow up or quit dreaming. "You ok babe?" my girlfriend says from behind me, one hand on my shoulder. I sighed and smiled at the thought in my head. (I ain't ready to stop dreamin')
"Yeah. . .Jus'. . . can't belive I'm doing this." She nods as I put an arms around her waist and kiss her cheek.
(I wouldn't change anything. . .)
Posters are in the trash bag and rolled up if I wanted them; My guitar is sitting on the floor and not on my wall; my desk is gone and loaded up, my bed is littered with menial things from clothing to boxes filled with even more odd items; lastly I see the boxes at my feet, closed and ready to be entered into a vehicle to be shipped to my own place.
I sigh and am happy at the idea I've gotten this much work done. But as I look around again I can't help but think. . .
(Am I really doing this?)
I know the answer is Hell yes. I'm 18 and I may not know if I'm ready to be on my own. . . I feel like. . . It's either time to grow up or quit dreaming. "You ok babe?" my girlfriend says from behind me, one hand on my shoulder. I sighed and smiled at the thought in my head. (I ain't ready to stop dreamin')
"Yeah. . .Jus'. . . can't belive I'm doing this." She nods as I put an arms around her waist and kiss her cheek.
(I wouldn't change anything. . .)
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