Fourth

Journal #22

I have come to grips with the fact that I am, indeed, insane. I am madly in love with nothing. Everything I spy is instantaneously romanticized, the snow, the clouds, the moon, everything. I feel as if the sky were green, the ground were blue yet I the grand Romeo, am in love and therefore over ride all else. I have never been on a hallucinogenic of any kind, yet I am positive the feelings and sensations I'd experience could ever even begin to surpass this eerie phenomenon. And if by grand chance my assumption is all but a joke of the realistic truth, for goodness sakes keep the poison away from me for I shall become a horrid junky within moments.

Now the feeling has all but left me. How these flashes of ecstasy have come upon me I do not know. I can, however, detect when they begin to arise. I'll lose myself within the adagio waltz of a certain song or art piece or voice and I drift. I reach an epiphany of unconsciousness then give way to the true inner voices and emotions of my person. In those moments I could paint a portrayal far grander than Monet's creations, compose a symphony beyond Mozart, and sculpt wonders past Michael Angelo, all the while being a corpse rotting within the industrial world of technology and high class television sets.

I am a freak. I am a side show. I am entertainment but at least I am not a lemming. Confidence is a quality lost by many over the years. Life is tough. It is difficult to keep one's thoughts pure of foreign residues when even one's sub-conscious seems to be a product of media at times. I have convinced myself I will stay true to my person even under persecution.

Where I feel I am going with all these thoughts and promises I haven't a clue. I think I'd make a fine politician if I weren't so self-absorbed or perhaps that would make me a better one.

Testosterone is a funny thing. It puffs a boy up with pride and ambitions long before his brain has the mental capacity to instruct him with what to do with it.

I wonder what my children will be like? If I don't learn to control my mental wonderings, I shall never achieve anything. I led a very sheltered childhood. Many people may say I am still a child, but many people are ignorant. Once a child has viewed enough of the corrupt reality of the world the innocence is consumed. Once that has happened everything relies on how the transformation is handled. If the child is able to accept and move past the corruption all time past that point is adulthood. I wish I were a child. I wish I were an adult. I am at that weird phase in life when I know it all and I know everything has the potential to suck. I know about all the bads and the few definite goods. I've witnessed much corruption but I can't move on. I can't forget and I can't accept it. I wonder how many true adults there are out there? I wonder how they sleep at night? I wish I could.

I used to be educated at home. The evils of this world used to be filtered through the loving ears of my mother. They used to be transformed to myths of foreign time and culture. They used to all be things that happened somewhere else to different people or to a friend of a friend's cousin. I was never the primary source. I shall never forgive my parents for thrusting me into the lion's pit without equipping me fist. Civilization is so much nicer when you're watching it from within a privet sprinkle globe. They all told me I'd feel independent and free once that secluding globe broke. Instead I feel like I'm drowning in a tsunami of painful truth. There's a completely different world lurking beyond my white picket fence.

Ashley Lawrence

Good metaphors and intriguing insight

Ashley please see me after class.

18/20

-Miss. Corp

Chapter 4 coming soon

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