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I cannot eat, I cannot sleep. I got a hole inside of me.
In a soul resonance kind of mood. Whatever that means. Do I know what that means? I'm not sure. Do you?
Lost our dome game 4-3. Both Shelb and I gave up two. She showed up in the last eight minutes, so I got some good playing time. I didn't do horribly, per say, despite not touching a ball for two months. Kicked it more than touched it. I did a nice save, a little deflect off one of my fingertips, but knocked the wind out of me and had my ears pounding for ten minutes after. Yay turf burn. It was worth it, though. Obviously.
It's never really apparent how much of a masochist I am until I play soccer. It's not a bad thing, just kind of interesting to think about.
I got Kieth's story. He had a collaboration with two other kids in his Sp.Ed. English class. The teacher put all the voc. kids in the same group, even though they're the ones that probably need the most help. That just makes me blood boil. I don't know who the teacher is, but from what Marybeth is depicting, Kieth's told them before that he doesn't understand stuff because the teacher doesn't teach him.
So, anyway, I offered my help and it just so happened that he needed his collaboration edited. I'm doing it at home now, but I'll take a trip to his house later and go over it with him personally. I don't care if he doesn't want to or not -- I'll force my love on him.
It's so bad that his partner has been spelling "Brian" as "Brain."
That being the contrary to fundamental Taoism, which I'm reading about now with Pooh as my guide.
And I won't be able to drive there myself, because today my suspension on the Camry blew and dad said he wasn't going to fix it until spring because he's tired of putting all this money in it, that he pays for the gas, blah blah blah.
I never ask him to fill it up. He always does it before I can, and then gets mad when I'm not particularly pleased to have it held over my head.
Mom says he's tired, overworked. He's probably going to repeat that in a few days, when he realizes that I don't respond to his comments.
That's all I hear. Excuses. No one knows how to apologize anymore. It seems like I'm always apologizing for people. For my own personal gains? Of course, yes. I don't like hating anymore, holding grudges, letting other people eat away at me and letting them.
I fold to combative personalities. I think I will always be that way.
I'm just melancholy. We're in crunch time and...everything is not going as I had assumed it would. I wish I could view life as soccer. Work a little longer, push a little harder, and the underdog will champion over all.
<insert dramatic sigh>
Playlist:
Tin Man by Animal Kingdom
Teenagers by My Chem
resonance by T.M.Revolution
I think I put this in the last journal, but it's still what I'm feelin':
I got no arms
I got no legs
I got no shoulders
But I got a head
I got a head that tells me stupid things to do.
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