I want to re-meet you but I may be getting my hopes up.
I always do.

I acquired a pair of tap shoes, exactly my size at goodwill the other day for 5 bucks.
Recently I've been considering taking some performance to the street.
I've been thinking about street performance for awhile now but I don't really want to do it alone.
I've busked here and there but I want something legitimate.
Real musicians who have the same ideas in performance as I do.
Anthony and Paul seem like realistic candidates for this but being that I'm not that great at the instruments I play and the music I write I'm not so sure they would want to work with me.
Plus I haven't done tap since I was 10.
The only thing I've got is my singing but I don't want to be a puppet.
It would be easy for me to just sing someone elses music but I'm not into that.
I suppose all I can do is keep trying to write (which is becoming impossible) and have some awesome people to work with. I'd love to be a performer.....get-up and all. It's the only thing I've been good at since I was a child. My insecurities have become immense these past few months and I can't seem to find an escape.
I find (sadly) that a lot of my creativity comes from feeding off of anothers and recently since I've moved back in with my mother I'm not around any sort of creativity.

Maybe I don't need anybody to work with.....maybe I really just need to work with myself.
Shit.

Which reminds me....I'll never be as good.

Abu doesn't care that she's fat.

Plus this picture makes her look slimming.
Celebrate 19!
She's an old hag but she's still got it.
I'm glad being 19 doesn't make me an old hag too.
And even if it did....I'd still have it just as much as she does.

I spent hours last night looking at anatomy inspired artwork.
I had dreams of tissue, muscles and brains, bleeding beating hearts and tangled veins.
And bones and bones and bones.
Anatomical images have taken over my body(ha!) and even my subconscious.
It's wonderful.

Fuck you with your logic.

I managed to pull two songs out of my ass within a two month period while I was living at the northpole and now I'm here, in Jupiter and I can't write for shit. I'm completely unmotivated. I've a got a television and the computer keeping me from doing the things I really want to be doing. I'm facing a mere identity crisis as of late and I'm not quite sure what the fuck I'm to do about it. I want to believe this is a phase and I'll get over this uncomfortable state but it feels never ending. Alot of people tell me 'I've been awkward since 19' and others telling me 'Yeah I remember 19, I've changed alot." Maybe my problem is that I'm looking too far into it and I'm not just letting it be....I'm not letting anything be. I keep over analyzing everything and I'll catch myself doing it but then my logic is interrupted with more over analyzing. "That was weird that I did that- but who cares maybe it wasn't-oh fuck but i bet it was".

I was coming out of that awkwardness when I was around alot of people a few months ago living at the northpole.
New folks always coming in and out. A chance to have actual human interaction with a community of people with common interests and whom of which I felt i was learning alot from.
Maybe thats why I was able to write my songs and able to feel comfortable-although I wouldn't call that entire situation COMFORTABLE, by any means...and not just physically but mentally as well but I suppose comfort in your own skin often comes from places of discomfort. It makes sense.
A struggle may not necessarily be comfortable but it'll sure as hell set you in your own skin.
You become comfortable knowing whats making you itch- and right now it's this sun burn.
This is getting repetitive and off track.

Words.words.words.words.words.
Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy.
I guess everybody goes a little insane sometimes.
I wish someone would have warned me it would have been at 19.

This medicine is running me into insomnia....at the same time it's making me fatigue.

It gets worse every night.

It's 6am and I've got a feeling I won't be sleeping at all.

I'm housesitting and I lost one of this womans cat's.

I hope she comes back.

Cat's are mysterious.

They know something we don't....or they've got the capablility to.

I'm waiting for a connection.

One that seems hopeless at this point.

It's about damn time the sun came up.