So my last journal was wangsty and mostly anger-management-needy...yeah....
but now I'm not such a despicable human being. I'm pretty much grooving to old 90's music, drinking my sleepy-time tea and getting ready to finish some history reading on WWI before school tomorrow. I have recently been freed from my attachment to someone and I may now look at other guys without feeling unfaithful. (lol) I plan on continuing to stalk the hottie at the library under good conscience now. XD The fourth quarter begins next monday and i'm pretty shocked that my junior year has gone by so quickly. These past two years have been a blur of stress, homework, and AP history! I did little to no hw this weekend and enjoyed myself thoroughly whilst shirking my responsibilities and taking long, spontaneous walks in my land, which really belongs to various neighbors and land speculators that hopefully don't know how often i trespass on their territory. It's funny, for years as a kid I envied my older siblings who were allowed to walk down the road by themselves or with eachother. Sometimes I was taken along but I dreamed of the day when I could walk out on the street alone. We live out in the boondocks, a good 15-20 miles from any small town and the country here is beautiful in a horse-farming kind of domesticated, tame landscape. Nothing wild and fierce that would have brought Whitman unspeakable joy, but still serene and inspiring when you've been locked up all week with nothing but Alan Brinkley's "American History: A Survey" to keep you company. Walking outside, in the woods, down the road, up the road, through the rolling hills and secret trails is my therapy, my consolation, my anger management, the world is my stress-ball. I own the land now, it doesn't matter if I'm two, three miles from the measly two acres that my parents own, wherever I roam is my land. By treading on sacred ground and taking in the earth through all my senses, I come to possess the land. man, Steinbeck is getting to me...speaking of a school assignment, I know I can do better in my classes and that I could have made a passing grade on my history multiple-choice test, but for once I am following my teacher's advice and I just said, to heck with it. I have to live. I need to connect with the earth. As a kid I was outside almost constantly. me and my mudholes were in separable. I walked everywhere barefoot and even during the summer up until i was about 14 I would still run around like a savage. once I started going to school my head became filled with numbers, books, studying and making good grades. I still make good grades and intend to continue, and probably couldn't stop striving for excellence even if I tried to..but recently I've had an epiphany. I need dirt. I need to feel the soil between my toes and under my fingernails, annoying the hell outta me. I need to plant something, grow something, sit in the freezing cold creek, catch crayfish with a broken net and pick wildflowers for my mother, make strings and necklaces and rings out of buttercups and clover flowers. I need to feast on wild mint leaves, baby briar thorns, sourgrass and honeysuckle. Without these simple things...no, sacred rituals of halcyon days when I was truly alive and part of the earth, I am depressed and mechanical. I've become hardened somehow. I have my moments of sweetness, but they are usually few and far between and occur when I need to impress adults or be kind to the elderly and parents etc...and I no longer feel genuinely natural. I'm emotional, but I let resentment build up and harden on my like resin, a thick gloss, all for show but it is so thick now that I can no longer breathe. Ventilation is limited. With each blow comes a sting that becomes muted and delayed but it reverberates and stays with me for extended periods of time. Then the bitterness and the dwelling and reflection comes and my wood begins to secrete another layer to my shell. It's like I molt repeatedly but never fully shed my skin, it just builds up indefinitely. I grow and develop new sides of me I never knew before but I cling to the old me for old times sake and because being my older self is useful when I see old friends.

That's enough nostalgia induced treading down memory lane...Don't expect to hear from me soon. I've tried uploading my two year old drawings that I've been recently reunited with but DA refuses to load them sooooooooo that's all for now.

Love and Peace,
Suki