diverting eye contact can only go so far. Really, he's changing into who the guy he used to complain about.  You know...the one that ditched his old friends for any type of alcohol anywhere every night. 

I cant write in this any more. Not like ive been writing much of any substance as of late. Just I dont like people knowing about me. And knowing that people have ACTUALLY been reading this is weird. I know, i know, its an online-blog....but i thought theyve gone out of style. 

Chicago orientation in July. Moving in Sept 5th-ish. 

too much to say. no motivation to tell it to the entire world.

dont you just hate being a dissapointment sometimes? like you get used to it for a while. then you realize youre just a failure and will go no where in life....maybe a comfortable job selling life insurance. comfortable-hah.

I do it every once in a while, thouroughly clean my room out, but only on special occasion.  Typically I do this when I decide to paint it or rearange or get a new bed even.  None of these things have happened since 7th grade.  But this special occasion is totally different. It's moving out- which I KNOW I wont be doing for 3 months at least depending on if i want to take summer classes in Chicago or not. But this is unlike any other room-clean that ive done.  I dug deep into my kinder-years stuffed back into my dresser(that hasnt been used in 4 years), my desk(which hasnt been used for....ever actually) and my closet.  I would typically throw everything under the bed and stuff them into the closet but this time.... they all went into boxes.  And before they went into the boxes I had to examine them...decide if they were worth keeping(do I want to see this 10 years from now?) trash, or give away.

Let me tell you, its been a very painful experience.  Finding old journals. Pictures of dead relatives, camp, old friends, old best friends, the beach, the zoo...generally happy things(besides the first).  Finding crafts I made in 1st grade for my mother with "i love you" written all over them. Obligitory projects. Awards. Trophys. Ribions. Valentines Day cards. 

im sorry but as excited as i am to move out of the house and start new...Its terrifying to think that the past 18 years of my life is now compacted into 4 boxes(two of which are nothing but books).  Hell I didnt even like my room...the colors are obnoxious blue and yellow...I had posters of UMD field hockey 04', Blue Crush, Snow Boarding, Paramore, Academy Is..., Navy.

I read through the many journals i keept.  I cant do anything but sink my head in disapointment.  I know ive disapointed myself.  I am nothing that i ever wanted to be. I havent flourished. I have no tallent. And now my room reflects my personality.  Sun-bleached colors with holes from things that once brought (or i wanted to convince myself I would become someday) me happiness and hope...plain and bare...ready to return to white; square one.

The few blows to the head were: finding old karate sparing pads; piles and piles of flute music; the glass flute, the fife, the recorder, the photography, sisters tapes.

I think its reassuring that no one will read this.