even though i have more of a mind than i did a few years ago, i still have the same kind of nothing to write. in the past i was what i was and now a am what i is, but even though there's quite alot of difference on the outside, maybe theres not that much on the inside. or the other way works instead. or maybe not much change at all and just a few years of age are added on what was before.
not that much of a change, more resignation and lassitude and more understandings about what will happen with my life and what Humans can be. more not really caring if i Make It In Life, or become that Famous Painter the family want-s/ed of me. to be sure id like to continue painting and drawing and making things that are nice to look at, that ill see once and a while and say "yes, i made something nice that wouldnt have existed if i didnt"
but its not necessarily necessary. i dont think i have anything that really is. i do like to read, and watch movies, and paint, and draw, and learn and listen. being with people is nice too, though im more comfortable alone, still. i am afraid of the dark. that is a recent progression though, but if its dark and i can hear wind or rain or things: it's nothing.
also, i seem to be strangely close with both my parents? also, its strange there is so much snow left on the ground. maybe its colder than i realize?
also how long have i not been on da? why is it so rediculous now. i thought it used to be about looking at art though it doesnt quite seem like that now. was this always changing For The Better, and i wasnt looking?
i dont h
- Listening to: passion pit - sleepyhead
- Drinking: oolong tea cold