Okay, so a few days ago, I went down a water slide in my clothes (on a raft, mind you, there’s some foresight here) and didn’t realize there was going to be a pool at the bottom somehow, and then I realized that was a giant metaphor for my relationship with my future. The lack of foresight I have is just amazing. So yeah, apparently, there’s a pool. and apparently, I am now a high school graduate.
Callum made this his fucking cover photo which kills me in more ways than one.
I graduated from high school. I didn’t think I could do it and it wasn’t easy, but I now know the harder thing will be graduating from my living situation.
I fall down so easily and I think this might lead me to study ancient Greek or something just so I can be as distracted as possible at all hours of the day, except it also takes a lot to distract me from everything in my brain.
I am pretty convinced that I need to become a mystic. I’m gonna try to communicate with the dead. I might accidentally open a portal to hell but I kind of feel like I have nothing to lose.
I need to get better at using people. I thought I was pretty good at it already, but we can do better.
Now that my life has no structure anymore, I’ve realized how much structure actually motivates me, and how much not having time to do anything makes me get more done. I kind of just want to make a list of all the paradoxes present in my life, but
No. No no no. Not at all. Okay. Let’s start over.
I’m trying to play Mandy Goes to Med School on piano, but all the notes sound wrong. Maybe I’m playing in the wrong key. I’m not even totally sure what that means. Maybe I should write a screenplay, maybe I am not cut out for fucking anything.
I need to write more cohesive things here, isn’t all this jumping around making you tired? It’s making me tired.
I think that the tone shift in my novel might be a lot easier if I just reread my diary. I said ‘reread,’ but I don’t think I’ve ever done that from the beginning. It’s got to be there. I don’t want to talk about my novel, but I can’t really describe it to other people right now except as “psychological satire,” also I’m not really sure what I’m including, what I’m extracting, what I’m withholding, what I’m going with here, but it better STICK hard.