#abcjournal

C

Can lack of sleep actually kill somebody? I’m actually starting to think it is quite possible. God, I’m so tired. Once again, my sanity and fluidity have been disrupted by another shitty paper in desperate need of saving. Who am I to deny said paper greatness and I… I think I’m starting to get a little delusional, if I’m being honest.

Today it is Wednesday, February 17th, and I managed to finish my homework before 12, which is quite an achievement if you ask me. My day was for the most part uneventful, except for the part when I bombed my IB Math test. Thanks again Ms. L. Other than that, I believe my day has been mostly about perception, and how necessarily view everyone around me and how other’s view me.

I feel like my friend (and I’m using the term friend very loosely here) Patricia is out to get me as far as writing goes. It’s as if she wants to go out of her way to make sure that I do not find out about the writing events that are occurring and when I do find out, she wants to exclude me. I almost didn’t go to this Louder Than a Bomb workshop we went to because Patricia did not think my performance (that received a standing ovation) at the last open mic last month was worthy of at least a try, which is a shame. I want the opportunity to prove that I can do this. I might be new to spoken word but I have so much to say. Funny thing is that most people that read my writing think I am more than qualified to be a part of this team, and worst of all, now that I am finally part of the team. We have to come up with a group poem idea for four people. I had a great idea, but it’s like she doesn’t even want to consider giving me a whirl when she’s not even in charge of anything!

I’m sorry if I sound like a piece of shit, but I swear I work so hard and I wish I could get some recognition. My teachers recognize me, so hopefully that will be enough to be able to shine.

On that note, I have a competition on Monday that I am utterly unprepared for. However, after much thinking I have decided to make my poem a letter to myself a few years ago, outlining the good, the bad, and the ugly so far. I want it to be powerful, but most of all, I want it to be true.

I have only thought of the first line.

Step out of the plane and prepare to change for life.

Who you were before doesn’t matter, you no longer

Have anything to hide.

That’s about it.

Sorry for the second long post in a row, promise that tomorrow will be longer and juicier, since I have to work.

Ciao Creeps.

B

Believe me, I won’t talk as much shit in this one as I did on the last one. Reason being… I’m trying to write my World Literature paper, and I am taking my third creativity break in the span of three hours. It’s really bad. I have only written about one paragraph and it’s due tomorrow. Slowly beginning to consider dropping out of school. Sigh. Oh right, it is currently February 16th, and I’d rather be sleeping.

On a sidetone, I came up with a pretty good idea for a concept of stories I might do after I finish this stupid challenge. Or even while doing this challenge, I haven’t decided this quite yet. I will have a character (no clue what his name will be) that has the ability to break the fourth wall at will (like Malcolm in Malcolm in the Middle and Frank Underwood in House of Cards) but instead of being an on-screen thing (maybe later on) I will try to put this character through multiple short stories and test out this fourth wall-breaking mechanic.

It could turn out to be quite interesting. And due to the fact that I am freaking out due to the massive amount of procrastination I have put myself through, I will write a small example of what it would look like so that I can have the idea written down and so that I can get back to work and hopefully get some sleep done.

This will probably turn out to be a bad idea.

I catch a glance of my Dad from the corner of my eye as he scurries from one side of the door to the other, holding a towel to cover his junk.

“That’s disgusting.” I yell.

“Bet yours looks like mine!” He replies from inside his room.

Minutes later he’s all dressed and stepping out the door.

“You finished your homework right?”

“Uh well…”

Okay, so I haven’t actually done shit. But he’s definitely going to be super annoying if I said I haven’t done my homework, so the answer is kind of a given.

“Yeah… Of course, I finished it yesterday.” My throat nearly dries out.

“Awesome, please take out the dishwasher before you forget.”

See it’s funny, you think I actually forget stuff when I actually ignore them.

“Yeah dad, for sure.”

It probably would be more convincing if I start washing the dishes right now. I stand and walk to the sink.

“I’ll see you later.”

This is literally the only cup I will wash today and I hope you realize that.

“Bye!”

Well, I gotta admit that was waaaay harder than I thought it would be. Gotta think things through or this might just be a bad idea.

Ran a late night writing that fucking paper, at least I’m proud of it.

Okay, I need some sleep now.

A

All of the lights in my house are off except for the one I’m currently using. It’s weird to think I used to be the one who would sleep earliest merely a few years ago, but now, being only eighteen, I pull the latest nights. Not because I need to, but rather because I can’t think of any other thing to do and sleep just doesn’t seem appealing any more.

Today it is February 15th and there a few bunch of things that are probably gonna drive me crazy one the next couple of days. First off, I would personally like to congratulate my calculus teacher for making my life hell without actually causing me to fly off the rail. Thanks Ms. L, I really appreciate it. However, the person who’s truly been driving me crazy lately is Sarah, (who is my girlfriend of two years.) I don’t know what to do, I feel like she changes so quickly I can’t keep up with her. I want to love her, but I’m not sure which version to love anymore. She seems like she’s really trying so I can’t really blame her for that. Even if stuff seems to be getting better, I can’t get my mind off the possibility of breaking up. On that note, fuck ambiguity. I like stuff to be defined. Do I love her? Definitely. Do I want to break up with her. I’m… not completely sure.

I feel like I can’t focus lately, I’m tired all the time and whenever I’m not tired I’m just overwhelmed by everything else. I wish I could just turn off the world inconsequentially for a few parts of the day just to be able to write. But, life isn’t easy like that.

These are a couple of things I came up with today that could possibly help me out with my writing later on, and I feel like maybe this writing challenge could get in a mood for writing, so there’s the possibility that I might just break into straight prose at some moment. But don’t you worry future self, I’ll make sure to mark it so that you know what is important amongst all of the bullshit.

Ideas:

- Biographical sort of view of my life as a story. Make it relating to my depression and this constant struggle I’ve with wanting to stay with Sarah, or testing out something new. It has to be realistic enough to bring attention, but then again not too realistic because it could have… well… unpleasant consequences. Including possible murder from Sarah’s part and more likely than not, boredom from my readers because let’s face it. Who wants to read about someone’s day to day life?

Shit. I lost my train of thought. Back to clueless babbling I guess…

I hate that I have this sort of pathological reaction of reaching to my phone. It doesn’t happen very often, except when it does. I tend to get especially anxious when I’m waiting from texts from Sarah and I don’t know why.

Sarah just texted me “sorry” once again.

Fuck you and specifically, fuck your wants. It’s-

Okay fuck you for simply leaving like always. Ugh. I don’t know what to do honestly.

Maybe I’m selfish. But fuck, you make me feel like shit.

How would that sound for the beginning of a story… Or rather, how could I start a story that is basically about how miserable I can be. Way to make it about you, dumbass. Since were still on the letter A…

————————————————————————————————

WOW. I told you I’m writing a journal entry and you try to dictate what I write about now. “Write about sex” Seriously? Fine, you get your wish.

On Sex

—I don’t think about sex often. It’s not like this drive that constantly turns on in my head, and makes me want to pursue the act of coitus. I have way too much stuff on my head to constantly think about it, and I don’t even know how I feel about it. I hate the fact that it’s like this chore sometimes. I try so hard to make you feel good but nothing seems to work,. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex. I just seem to suck pretty badly at it and I don’t know what to do about it. I try to take my time, but you just rush me. So I don’t know whether to just keep trying to do what I’m doing or follow what you’re asking me to do. I don’t know. I feel like orgasms are overrated. Mine don’t feel that good, and I feel like the first time you orgasm you might feel disappointed by all of this build up you’re giving it. I try to avoid thinking about sex because it just kind of stresses me out, and maybe it’s because right now I’m not in the best mood to write about the dirty and the hot and the not so ugly. Believe me, there is the fun in it. But sometimes I feel the stress overdoes it. The reason why I often try to turn you on is to like in a way show that I am still trying to get you there and that I won’t give up. I want more chances to prove that I can do it, but sometimes my intentions don’t come at the right times and I bet it looks like I’m like addicted to sex. Honestly, I’m not sure what I am.

Now that that’s over.

Ew. I wrote “that that”. Ugh, I hate doing that.

On another note.

I went out with Audrey Saturday night. I know, weird right? Obviously it wasn’t like what you’re probably thinking. I might be unhappy, but I would never cheat. I don’t know, I guess I just wanted something different for a change. It was nice. Not to have any pressure and just like talking to someone I’m still trying to get to know. She’s funny. We have pretty good chemistry when bantering. She keeps up with my wit, which is rather impressive, and I keep up with hers. We also have quite the affinity for talking shit which is rather appreciated. It’s interesting, she’s like the first girl I had not trouble talking to when hanging out alone for the first time after texting for a while. It’s like we just slipped into conversation. Totally different from when I first hung out alone with Naomi, or Chloe. It’s funny, Jake said that if I wasn’t with Sarah “I’d totally be about you and Audrey together, you guys would be perfect”. I don’t think I like her quite yet. Then again, maybe I’m lying to myself. I don’t like to think about that. But, even if I did like Audrey I don’t think she’d agree with Jake’s point of view. I just don’t see her ever liking me like that. I think this is just the start of a really good friendship, and I am definitely okay with that.

As for Sarah, no clue how that’s gonna turn out.

(H)Asta la vista Assholes.

Some articles I’m referencing and provide assistance for the chronological order for the book/collection I’ll end up compiling. 

A Brief Essay on Anatomical Drawing by Hal Sharp 

Dream Anatomy

Historical Anatomies on the Web

Evolution of Anatomical Illustration and Wax Modelling 16th to 19th Century Italy

Human Cadaveric Dissection: A Historical Account from Ancient Greece to the Modern Era

With the beginning of a new journal comes a new theme. I’m trying something different with an alphabetical inspiration. Each page being a letter of the alphabet. I’d love to check out and share how each letter inspires you as well!

With the beginning of a new journal comes a new theme. I’m trying something different with an alphabetical inspiration. Each page being a letter of the alphabet. I’d love to check out and share how each letter inspires you as well!

D • desire

rough and painful

stripped of any shame

passion and desire

no movement the same

what words can’t proclaim

lust will express

skin to skin, unclad

indulging in duress

feeding on affliction

fervent and exposed

feeding a fixation