I’ve realized recently just how hard it is for a piece of literature to captivate me. That it takes raw emotion, realistic displays, and impeccable similes to catch my attention.

 

 

I’ve decided to devote my summer to what I really love doing. Although there will be ugly interruptions, I’m sure… I’ll save the ache and let it pour out into a scrap of paper, a fresh document on Microsoft Word, a pitiful journal entry.

 

Who knows where these tedious days ahead may take me, I have no promise of social life this summer. My parents question my keenness of responsibility. But I am nothing more than a girl looking for a life. I’m basically harmless; sitting up in my room, strumming thick metal strings and singing to a soul-twisting song, letting my fingers press buttons with the musical sound of literature’s progress, lying in bed and sleeping off my stolen hours of sleep. Groundment has destroyed my sense of normal; has taken it and bashed its barrier like a Mongolian cursing the Great Wall of China with warrior paint splattered on his angry face. Tell me, what kind of girl do you think I am? Do I seem like the type to do pot in an alley by the Last Drop Coffee Shop? Do I seem like the type to have ravenous sex with multiple partners? Do I seem like the type to go up to another girl and say “bitch let’s go”, just cause I can?

 

All answers should have been no, either that or you don’t know me very well. At least if we are talking seriously.

 

I am a dead beat; I am a nobody without social interaction. And taking it away from me is a sin in the sense of life’s quality. I have done nothing to deserve not being trusted. I should be able to go to promising parties, I should be able to get out and live my life. I have earned it god damnit, and any douche bag who wants to steal what I deserve from me has got another thing coming.

 

If I am going to be sitting in my house all summer, you bet I’m going to fuck around. I will sneak out and be as bad as my parents assume me to be. You want to play that way? Fine, I’ll play right back.

 

Hopefully I am not expected to dick around all summer, but I do have faith in that with enough haggling, I can convince my mother to let me be free; to let me enjoy my life while I am young; to let me grow up.

 

 

Aside from summer’s expectations:

 

Today I jammed with Drew and Eric Plankey. I had a good time with the exception that Drew has a hard time playing with other people, and just solos the whole time. It’s a jam, not a one man show. There was one little jam with just me and Plankey that I really liked, it was softer and not like any of that “fuck yeah rock hard” stuff. I want to do it in that same key again, and record it.

 

Tomorrow is my Language Arts final. I don’t really care. All I need to do is study vocab, which I’m pretty sure won’t matter anyway. Even if you failed that part of the final, Brandon told me that the other parts are easy, and that you’d probably get a C if you just bull shitted the vocab part.