i'm a mountain that has been moved.

So I've decided I'm going to try this whole blog thing. Maybe I'll be able to figure out whats wrong - what's wrong with me, what's wrong with my thoughts, what's wrong with life.

Lately I've felt unable to breathe, unable to move. I've felt as if a huge plate of glass is separating my being from the whole entire world around me. I'm not even sure there's something wrong with feeling that, but I as far as I can tell, I'm very alone in that feeling.

Everyone around me is constantly going on and on and on about, I don't know. TV shows. Fashion Magazines. Relationships. The Fucking Hills. In return, my brain is constantly going on and on and on about, I don't know. How stupid and meaningless every little aspect of life is. (Note to reader: I'm not going to like, kill myself or anything drastic like that. I'm simply stating that overall, my perception of life is really kind of a disappointment.) Most of the time I sit and analyze that thought itself rather than acting out in any particular way, because I truly have no interest in taking part in, well, acting out.

This probably brings me to the point of why I'm not at school today, why I'm not at school once a week. Some days, I really just can't tolerate all of the shit going on in my brain. Therefore, I have to walk in Debbie's room, (Debbie being my mother), and make up some bullshit excuse as to why I once again do not feel good. It's not that I don't have a reason, I just have a very different reason as to what I inform her of.

For example:

Debbie's Reason: Today, I woke up with cramps so bad just the thought alone makes me want to puke my brains out and sleep forever.

Actual Reason: I woke up around 6:33, which is a good, whole 12 minutes before I usually do. I then laid there until 6:57, which made me a good, whole 12 minutes late. As I got ready, I got disgusted by the fact that I have to put on makeup and straighten my hair before even considering myself remotely decent to be viewed by any other person. I then decided that instead of facing the world today, much earlier than I would ever prefer, I should lay on the living room couch and read I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak. It's been so long since I've actually sat down and read a book.

But anyway.

I'm listening to Brand New's album, Daisy, and I suggest you and everyone you know give it a listen.

I guess it's time to waste time in my room, playing shit on the piano.

Operative me, out.