I am overwhelmed by my own inherent childishness. I just want to whine and cry and throw things until the world starts working for me.
I don't want to think, talk or do anything responsible. I should be doing homework, applying for university, getting my driver's license, getting a part time job.
Why can't I be as good at life as I am at yearbook? There I'm like a deity, I'm all knowing, all-powerful. I'm a shining beacon of success and fluid control. But in all other aspects of life I just want to collapse in my room and watch cartoons forever.
It makes me furious that I am more than capable of taking a hold on my world with a fist of iron and molding it to my liking. I have in me overwhelming potential for success and accomplishment, but each day I squander it. Somehow the enormity of reality and the future renders me a sniveling coward, and I loathe it. That's not to say I'm unhappy, hell, I'm doing excellently in all my classes, better in yearbook, and at home and school things are looking up, Socially.
…How frustrating. In any case, I think too much. That’s why I identify so strongly with Hamlet. I’m going to attempt to do something productive now, and by productive I mean read this month’s GMR. Mmm- Video games….