Missing the Weirdy Station

I hope this is short, because anytime I start writing, I almost always don’t know where it’s going. Usually, the process goes I write whatever my heart/brain is feeling per second and ultimately produce a piece of mumbo jumbo. I really miss blogging here. I used to blog almost daily. I haven’t even written something in my own journal in over a week! I’m internally dying. I can’t make sense of anything but Physics, and that’s barely a qualified sentence, because I don’t get. I just don’t. (Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating: I get 20% of it.)

But I miss the blog. I miss talking and ranting out about my insanity and people at school and things I notice. I miss talking about my dreams that I wish I would stop keeping as dreams and making realities. I miss watching How I met Your Mother or the office. I miss watching movies. Spending more time with my family and cuddling my doggy. 

I miss a lot of things these days. 

School just started two weeks ago. Another Gladiator battle begins. Strength and Honor he proclaims. PROMETHEUUUUS they scream. I don’t know what Prometheus has to do with going back to school I just think about that trailer every now and then, even though I’ve never seen the movie. 

School has been keeping me pretty busy. It’s nothing that I didn’t expect, but I just didn’t want to face it. It feels so good to write again, if I may add. Seriously, I feel like I’m breathing peace. I feel like I’m breathing the entire world. 

I’m smiling from the tips of my mouth, but it doesn’t seem like it. My eyes are smiling. I can feel it. 

My sister and I go to the same school now, and it’s awesomely rad. Sometimes, when you have a sibling, it’s like you guys against the world. It’s a great feeling. I love talking to her, asking her questions, even though she’s younger, because she has such a great mind and caring heart. 

I might start talking about my mami and Daddy. Yep, I still call them that. I’ll call them that until I’m 80 freaking years old. 

I love that my mom knows when there is something wrong with me no matter how much I hide the expression of disturbed away, or sad away. I hate facing my issues, but I think secretly inside I want my mom and dad to see how sad I am sometimes, or how angry I am. I hate crying in front of them, because it just feels naturally embarrassing, but when I do, they are there to hold me, and talk to me, ask me what’s wrong(which I also hate, but love)…it feels right. I think I might have a lot of mental breakdowns this year. Psychedelic worldly moments of mental existence, where every part of my being is just like,

“wat.” 

I miss being weird. I’ve thought up a lot of weird poopy lately, and I only talk about it, usually with myself and my brain. 

I found some really weird amazing music that matches my tone of psychedelic worldly moments of mental existence. It also helps me read my required novel reading: The Age of Innocence, by Edith Wharton. It’s not all that bad. It’s even made me laugh sometimes, I don’t remember why. Maybe because of the level of pretentiousness in the characters, yeah, I think that’s it. But it has really awesome sentences. There are some really simple moments in there that make it easy to read, and fun. It’s making me think in a new way. I’m only on page 13, but still. The diction, of course, is a whole on an entire other level than my own, usually the case with most things, but that’s [art of what makes the reading experience pretty amazing. Me getting smarter. Score: Me 1 World 10000000000. Just kidding. I have to at least have 5 points…

I’m going to try to blog more, about anything. One blog a day, even if it’s worthless information about myself, I don’t freaking care.

Random transition: now.

I think Physics is actually a pretty great subject, even though it’s totally burning out my brain. Seriously, it’s a hollow space of ashes up there. I like the sense and reason of it all though. I mean, sure, it’s the completely opposite of me, but the mice things about math is the ability to get some source of reason and assurance that you can’t always get out of life. That’s why I actually really do like math. But I also hate it when I can;t figure it out, because math is always supposed to have some truth and reason behind it. I hate being confused in math. 

The thing about writing, is that it allows me to explore all the confusing, unreasonable, cataclysmic aspects of life. I’ll never figure it, no, no, no, of course not, but I can always explore it, go through some kind of psychological puzzle in my head that adds new pieces every day, because this puzzle is literally never ending. I like it that way though. I love thinking, even stupid thinking. It’s better than not thinking at all. 

I might start reviewing the movies and books and TV shows and music I listen to more. Whatever I’m in the mood for. I’ll blog about all my guilty pleasure and my guiltless guilty pleasures(really excited for that one), the things I love, hate, opinions on world events, children, teenagers, basically everything. I need to write something about Family Ties! And the Wonder Years. I need to re-watch that. I’ve re-watched the whole series probably three times, except the last season. The last season makes me way too depressed about growing up. Man, I also have to write about Mike Birbiglia. 

Okay okay okay, I have to go. My mom’s calling us to leave for the airport already. I’ll be back, writing another mumble jumble of weird/random sentences. 

Blah. 

Ciao. (Bye, right?)

 

 

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