Slytherin

Sinking, and in search for sunshine

Dead hair sleeping on shoulders
Slow
Lament...
Your existence is bigoted
A thought resting only in my mind

I look forward to facing the window
Where sunshine laments
Windows...
A thought
But hush, and call sleep

I sink as if
I'm you
.mavy 052806

***
Irrational. I finally found the perfect word to intensify my situation these past few days.
Not my mind though, just the crappy instances I'm placed at, or maybe somewhere beneath.

I'm off to scout for jobs again tomorrow, and of course, to fix some school stuff. If I don't find a stable solution by Thursday, I might as well file for an LOA.
Kat and I have the same problems right now. But I told her last night, with regard to concerns, I'm more anxious about my pending responsibilities if I do not get enrolled.

I have CSJ (with just 2 months of taking pleasure in being English Literary Section Editor), Science Debate (one that hones me into a better layout artist and graphic designer, schmuck) and TDC (I can't swallow the inevitable conclusion of not getting into Nationals).

These three organizations drive me to do better and to cross the eye of every needle each terrible waking day. They're also some of the hardline stances that breach me to catharsis and make me hope that I'll soon get past these poisonous ordeals.

I've matured from angst, from rebellion and from impatience.
Yet there's one thing that I can't seem to get out of my system:
Passion.

If you read through my previous posts, it only emboldens one thing: my love for writing and debate. If you release me from the insomnia, then I wouldn't know where else to put my self.
It supercedes my academics, but not to say that it replaces them. But if you rip me apart, there are nothing but words and imagery in my blood, and these are the only things that keep me from jumping out of high railings.

... I just wish it's not this difficult.
But I'm thankful I'm still breathing.