Because my brother "accidentally" downloaded a "bad file" from a "friend," we have a virus, which severely impedes my ability to write on this blog.
But such is life.
But I sure wish I had a computer right now. A lot of things would be much, much easier if I could just type them out. If my fingers go faster, my brain does too, and that's why typing can be better than writing things out. But don't count out writing with a pencil. Pencils are very nice. Very, very nice.
Youth Symphony: I'm tired of it.
Pros of leaving:
- It would bring my total days with nothing after school to a whopping Two.
- Less things to practice.
- No more sitting in a room I don't want to be in and being kept there until an unreasonably late hour.
- More homework time.
- No more huge, gigantic, annoying skirt.
Cons of leaving:
- I would inevitably miss it.
- I like performing on a big stage.
- I have friends there.
Do the pros outweigh the cons? Maybe. Maybe I'll just stay until the end of this concert set and then leave in December. This is my least favorite kind of choice to make. I love making music and I would probably die if I couldn't do it, but it takes up all of my time. I am getting sick of having no free time during the week. So! Maybe I'll leave!
Maybe!
I'm worried I write all the same thing all the time. Here, I mean. Not that I post a lot. I don't really post a lot. Before I complain, I should write more.
Um... never mind.
I think I post too much about writing. Maybe I do. Writing and the future. Those are things I think about. I think about writing and the future and literature and language and art and music. I don't want to be repetitive, but lately I've only thought about writing and literature?!
I don't really know what I'm saying. I think I left my words in my writing class notebook.
Well, today's a really good day! It's sunny outside. And the sky is really blue, the kind of blue that doesn't happen all the time. Also, the trees look like fire.
I'm also playing pokemon lately. My eevee isn't strong enough yet. I'm getting there. I'll surpass the strongest eevee ever.
Also, I want to post pictures.
The problem is I don't have a camera.
(First world problems)
I need to find some scissors because I want to make a thousand snowflakes and tape them to the walls.
So I was really pumped to write in this blog today now that I know that I actually have friends who will read it. I thought about it a lot. I was going to write something extraordinary! Something moving! Something amazing!
But then I came home and actually sat down in front of the computer with the 'Create Post!' box open.
Crap.
I couldn't write anything. Why didn't I think this through more.
So I did what I always do when I can't think of what to write: Watch WheezyWaiter videos on Youtube. Hooray!
And as I did this, I began to think about how my violin teacher would probably appreciate this humor even more than I, which led me to remember that I have yet to practice today. This prompted me to look at the time, which is currently 8:47 pm. I realized I don't have the time or daylight to practice tonight, and then I remembered that I have another music lesson tomorrow, which means I have no free time again.
Damn.
Being in high school is a pain in the ass.
But at least I have a certain shirt to sleep with tonight.
Tee hee!
So, I started taking a creative writing class this year, my senior year of high school. So far, I think I like it, apart from how I sit next to a person I would rather not share everything I write with, but that's a different story. The teacher's fantastic, the class is more than engaging, the prompts are interesting. But it seems strange to me in a way that's difficult to explain.
The teacher teaches writing to a class who already knows how to write, but he teaches like there's only one way to go about writing. His way is very structured and planned out and while that's very good and nice and I'm sure he's a fine writer, I don't think this is the way it should always be. I think writing is a subjective thing: sometimes you have it thought out and sometimes it just flows from your heart to your fingers and onto the page, or onto the screen. He teaches us about cliches and similes and metaphors and imagery and all of that stuff and how it can make your writing more colorful and interesting, but that's subjective as well. Style-based.
Sure, metaphors can be cool if dramatic explanations are what you go for.
"The rain fell from the sky in a biblical torrential downpour, bouncing off of leaves and soaking the earth."
Yeah, I can see how that can be more interesting than, "It rained."
But I like simplicity, if that makes sense. I like to take a minimalist approach to writing and make it as real as I can: One doesn't really see metaphors and similes in real life, as life isn't always interesting. Metaphors are used to spruce up the drab realities of things, really.
So if I were to describe that it were raining, I would do it more to set the stage than to go into violent detail about how the rain is so coming down in such a superabundant manner that it's speeding up the process of erosion or something.
"It was raining, and she began to walk to school."
It's simpler and truer and I like it better that way.
I really don't know why I joined that jogging class. I really don't know what I was thinking.
"Oh, running! I hate that! I should take a class that does only that! Great idea!"
Stuuuuuupid.
So, it's raining.D
And I woke up tired.
So guess what I'm doing.
....Not going to jogging.
Go me.
Wow.
Just wow.
Sometimes, I feel so lucky. Lucky and bored. I'm lucky because I have all of these fortunate circumstances about my life and I'm not starving and I have a home and a family and friends.
I'm super lucky.
But also, I'm bored. I wish things would happen more often. I'm tired about being nervous about the things that could happen, the things that never do. I'm not talking stupid petty high school things, not necessarily. Just in general, things.
I feel kind of like I'm hitting major teenage milestones late, but I'm really younger than like, everyone. It's weird. I'm graduating in a year. This isn't possible, but here it is happening all around me.
I know life isn't going to end after high school, but it sure seems like sticking my head into a pitch black room.
Wow. Um. Okay.
I kind of completely abandoned Blogger and now I'm making one of those posts where I say that I'm totally going to post more often but in reality I probably won't so here's to you.
My dog just came in the room and his stomach is making a really weird noise. It sounds like there's an alien or something in there, I don't know. I should probably let him out or something, but it's cold.
I wish it would stop making that sound. It's grossing me out.
