haydensmythe: A picture of a boy with an avocado for a head and large glasses. (Default)
 I'm calling this live journaling because I'm typing this up as I go and not going back to edit anything.
I'll actually put a mood on here now.
No commenting, now - it's my journal and I'll be as colorful as I like.

I am indeed quite tired. My head is reeling, a feeling I truly loathe.

Sometimes the only things to write about are things that'd get me in trouble. Conversations with my best friend are one example. We talk about things that I really shouldn't type up on a public record. Not to say they're entirely inappropriate. They're just entirely too personal. We share our innermost thoughts and irrational emotions with each other. It isn't exactly something to share with the world. They're private, intimate moments that I'd prefer to keep that way.

Could I sound any more cliched and feminine?

Ah, well. I have the excuse of exhaustion on my side, if nothing else.

One person has been in my mind recently. A boy, as taboo and controversial as that may be. Two boys. Oh no. Watch out, they might start holding hands or something equally scandalous.

Anyway, the boy. We used to have something. We really did. Then, realizing the scarlet letter marking everything we did, I pushed him away, convinced that once he saw it, he'd push me away, himself. Hurt him before he hurt me. Of course, he bounced right back, and I was left breaking myself apart.

Now, realizing my mistake and that I do indeed still care for him, and he does indeed still care for me, I'm attempting to rekindle our old flame. It may be desperate and foolish, but I suppose that's exactly the type of person I am.

My friend is concerned and calling me now. I'll give it a rest for tonight.
haydensmythe: A picture of a boy with an avocado for a head and large glasses. (Default)
5/23/13 - 9:40 A.M.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap tap tap.
Tappatappatappa crash BOOM.

Gentle rain slowly evolves to a thunderous flash flood outside the classroom. It can be heard throughout the building; crashing against the ceiling, blowing against the walls, soaking into the very foundation. Its symphony lulls some to sleep, but as for me, I prefer to stay awake to enjoy the show.

5/27/13 - 11:16 A.M.

Sometimes, my journaling is very cut-and-dry. Sometimes it takes a while for it to eventually devolve into rambling prose. Ah, well, no matter. I can always count on the inevitability that my words will twist and take shape, painting a vibrant narrative. It may not always be graceful, beautiful, and eloquent, as I would prefer, but it is mine.


haydensmythe: A picture of a boy with an avocado for a head and large glasses. (Default)

June 2013



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