Life is busy.

I got the gall to wear high heels. My calves are a little tight, and my feet are blistered, but it was fun

vvvvv see?

EVERYTHING is okay

College applicating is a little bit difficult.

I love my family. Well. The parts of it that aren’t awful anyway *cough meine mutti cough*

School is nice.

My father turned out to be quite reliable.

I love to sing and play guitar possibly almost as much as I love to draw.

Welp, bye!

living life in poverty.

It’s strange coming to realize the full extent of things. My parents are hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. I am grateful that I even have a house to live in.

I think I get so frustrated because most people just don’t understand what its like to be poor. My entire life I’ve had to go without things that are pretty essential (think heat, water, electricity, and even food) but I never really thought much of it. But as I age and am refused more essential things, the frustration wells up in my heart with the unfairness. I’m just a kid, and it’s not my fault that my parents fucked their lives over. I shouldn’t have to take freezing cold showers and scrounge up quarters for food. I should be able to drive myself to my several obligations. Yet I can’t count on my parents to do anything for me. If I ever want a car, I’m going to have to get a job (oh wait those are kind of dependent on one another aren’t they.) I can’t rely on my father to get me anywhere. He has consistently been late to pick me up for my whole life, and lately he’s only home for maybe 2 hours during the day.
bleh.

I just get so mad when I see ungrateful people who complain about what kind of car they have or if they can’t get a new 200 dollar coat. and I realize that the world is full of third world countries but that’s simply incomparable to a civilized country. In my neighborhood, I am the poorest kind of person. It’s so hard to stay hopeful when you’ve been let down so much. And it’s so frustrating when all people say is “just hang in there.” They just don’t get it.
You just can’t understand until you’re in a situation SO GODDAMN SHITTY.

And college financing is a completely different story. My family never set up a college fund, because they were too busy snorting crack on the fucking weekends.

Anyway. I’m done.

stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress stress

I’m alive and I have food and shelter and some nice friends and even though I have to take cold showers now I am still grateful because I have blankets and shoes and soap.

I want to live in a movie. A build up, a climax, and then an end. Not this everyday monotony.

My hair flips out no matter how much time I spend straightening it.
Curse you, genetics.

Also curse genetics for my fat ankles and upper arms. I blame you grandma Schornagel.

I live in a house alone with my father. Where’s the rest of my family?
Connecticut. New York.

I can’t sleeeeep.

So I was thinking, how does anything work? Social normality, Social grace, Social Social. I’m clumsy as fuck.

But I won’t change my fundamental ideas for ANYONE. I won’t change my clothes or my hair or my teeth or my weight or my language or my art for ANYONE besides myself. I am in control of me and that is what I am assertive about. Nearly the only thing.

I’m going to live in……. Detroit? Big Rapids? Grand Rapids? Ann Arbor? Out of state– Providence, Rhode Island?
Work hard work hard work hard work hard. Get art get accepted get scholarships LEAVE.

I want to be left alone but I don’t want to be lonely.

I love you to pieces.

Notice me.

incoherent thoughts about my atheism.

I am an atheist, or anti-theist for those that would label atheism a religion. I do not adhere to a doctrine. I do not worship anything.

I do not argue with Christians. I say Christians because they are nearly the only religion in my small town.

However, I will not let slide a bigoted remark that is based on outdated principles of the bible.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I was talking to a friend about Elton John. Some kid came up, uninvited, and said that Elton John is the anti-Christ on the grounds that he is gay. I believe a large rant ensued, from me of course, about the baselessness of a claim like that or something ridiculous.

I have been an open atheist since seventh grade. For a short period in my life I was attracted to deism merely for the comfort it provided me. However I realized the hypocrisy that I was committing and quickly reasoned myself out of it. I am well versed in the Christian bible and I am not ignorant of other religions.

I do not judge. I won’t automatically hate a Christian (or member of any other religion). I won’t disrespect them either. If I find that they are bigoted, non-adherent to what they claim to follow, intolerant, or ignorant, I will probably think less of them. But that goes for ALL people, not Christians.

I sincerely think that that mentality is one that a lot of atheist do not posit, because they are bitter from all of the judgment that has been placed on them by religion adherents. It’s also not a mentality many people of any group have, I think. Though it should be. Maybe if the entire world adopted that mentality we would be a lot happier and a lot less war-y.

work work work work work work.

I am living with my dad when I go home. I wonder if I posted that here? I feel sorry for the man.

I’ve written six of my countless english papers. Three of them tonight O.O.

I have yet to find a post senior from Fremont willing to relinquish a Government final exam review. I *really* don’t want to read the whole textbook.

My schedule for my senior year is all messed uppppp.

I’m on the U of M campus right now, hanging out in a classroom where it is very peaceful and quiet. The house I am staying in makes me uneasy because I’m a stranger there.

I got a letter from U of M inviting me to tour the campus. I thought that was funny… since I’m like, living on it. I also thought it was nice because it said I was a top high school scholar : ). Just because of my ACT score, I think.

My GPA is nearly 3.5 now, though. That’s pleasant enough. My ACT score makes up for my lack of GPA goodness though.

Anyway. I’m excited to get back to playing my guitar once I go home. I really miss it. I’m also excited for some technical drawings I might do sometime soon. I have some nice ideas.

I want to buy a full length mirror for my house in Fremont. There isn’t a single one and I never know what my clothes look like on me. Maybe I’ll look at the thrift stores here.

I’m just rambling I think. Working up the motivation to go back to the house I’m staying at.
I’m so grateful that they let me stay there rent free. I really am. I don’t even know these people. Well, most of them anyway.

Nothing to sayyyy.

I’ve got to get busy.

Wish teachers would email me back :/.

I love clothes.

This is fact.

I hate being force fed fashion though. I want to wear what I want to wear, regardless of whether or not it is “in style.” I went to the mall recently, and I was disgusted by the fashions being displayed. They were played out and down right ugly, not to mention overly priced.

I am a pretty big fan of thrift stores and vintage shops. You can create unique and fantastic outfits from the things you can find from the past~

Examples:

The cardigan and the belt are from Goodwill. The paintings are mine . This was before I lost some weight, so my legs look big.

I found the shirt and belt at Salvation Army, and the pants at a random store for ten dollars. This photo was from two hours ago. Compare leg size... if you want.

Vintage high waisted skirt from Etsy, belt from Goodwill. More of my art in the back .

The vintage sweater is from Etsy. I took the beads off of it though since this picture. I also lost weight.

So yes, these are some outfits I’ve made (I’ve made many others) out of thrift and vintage finds. I infinitely prefer the wide variety found in thrift shops to the forced generic fashions found in mall stores. And besides, a lot of second hand shops donate their profits to good causes.

I’m tired of writing this post now though. Goodnight.

Things.

I can’t stand the pseudo-intellectual. I’m not saying that I am particularly intelligent, but yes.

I’ve been in a slump, but I think things will get better.

I think I’ve decided to live with my dad, but I’m not sure yet. I want to see how he continues to treat me. If he starts treating me badly again, I will live with my Aunt Dee I suppose. She lives about twenty minutes to a half an hour away from where I go to school though, and I think I have a class at 7 a.m. this year.

I definitely need to get my license by the end of the summer. This is fact.

My toe cracks when I walk. Every single step it cracks. It doesn’t hurt, but I’m afraid that it will be a medical problem.

My acoustic guitar is with me in Ann Arbor. I am quite pleased, and very grateful that it was fixed. ( ).

I have a lot of work to do for English Four… I will start tonight. (Start, haha.)

Government shouldn’t be too difficult.. just reading and note taking. Things like social science are particularly easy for me to learn. Maybe I should just be a social scientist or something.

Anyway. I’m a bit sleepy.

I really want a goddamn meal.
A real one.
Not granola bars and cans of speghettios.

Unfortunately, I am shy and there are people in the kitchen all the time.

I’m starving to death. Maybe I’ll lose weight.

If my mom would just tell me that I have a place to stay, and that she WILL be able to support me, then maybe I could concentrate on something else for at least five minutes.
It really sucks that she refuses to understand why it stresses me out.

I have my hair up in the bump thing that Alex hates.