It seemed good at the time

I took over a portion of the study lounge today with my collage materials (yay weird stares.) I was looking at the works of Hope Kroll and loosely basing my work off of hers. I noticed a lot of her work has one central image and then that's expanded upon.

As I was working on it I actually really liked it. It took forever due to cutting things out over and over (you probably can't see it in the picture but there's 3-4 layers depending on where you look). But when I went to take a picture of it for my blog, I suddenly found myself not liking it anymore. So I guess I'm soliciting advice/critique?

And a bit closer up

THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID! THIN? WHO GIVES A FUCK!

I am a GOOD person. I’m not perfect, I may have some gossipy tendancies, I procrastinate like it’s my job, but I’m a GOOD person. I CARE about people. I am always trying to help people, I’m always there for them. And as a result, I’m LIKED. People care about me, respect me, admire me, love me. And all of that is REGARDLESS of my size.

WHO CARES IF I’M THIN? WHAT DOES BEING THIN ACCOMPLISH? It doesn’t make me a better person, that’s for sure. I’m a good person and being thin neither adds nor subtracts from that.

So if I’m not 100% happy with what I see in the mirror, it SHOULDN’T MATTER! I’m still me, I’m still a GOOD, KIND, CARING person. And I’d rather be known for all of that then being known as “the thin girl” or (as I’ve shamefully strived for) “the anorexic looking girl.

"that is why I love you"

I'm sitting in sociology right now trying not to cry. You guys are my desktop background, and now you guys are my facebook default picture because I really fucking miss my family. I knew I'd miss you guys but this is more than I'd ever imagine, and I can't move on. My parents are telling me that they know STAC was amazing for me but it's time to grow, and I know that I grew so much in my time there and that it's time to let myself see what college has to offer, but maybe I'm just in a bad mood right now but all I want is to be with you guys.

In my end of the year blog post, I said my favorite thing about last year was that I know I could go to any of you and you'd be there for me, and I'd be there for all of you. STAC, I need you guys. I don't know what to do with myself right now. I'm trying not to fall apart but it's so hard when I feel like no one in a 10 mile radius actually cares about me. I'm sorry for being so needy, I KNOW i can get out of this. But I really really miss you guys.

I'm stronger than this, I know I am, I'm strong enough to do this on my own. But if anyone out there cares, that would probably help a bit too.

I don't know what I need. I guess part of me needs a swift kick in the ass. I know I need to be more independent, but I'm also so stuck in the past with you guys.

"Too good for the world,

but I hope you will stay.

And I'll be here to see that you don't fade away."

-Beautiful Freak, Eels

STAC, please don't let me fade away.

ps: last friday night the campus improv group performed at the dinner i went to. i actually couldn't sit there, i excused myself to the bathroom because they were AWFUL. I started texting STACies about how bad they were and how much i wished STAC was up there. Everyone around me was laughing and I didn't get it. Maybe I was just being pretentious, but they were really bad!

365 still going!

hey guys!

for those of you who followed my 365, you know that I stopped blogging it, but I kept up with it and it's not all uploaded to a tumblr blog. If you want to follow it, here's the link [:

http://daysinayear.tumblr.com/

Miss you all like crazy, you don't even know.

Hope to see you soon!

The End

I don't know if it's completely hit me. I just watched the montage again and I teared up and now tears keep welling up in my eyes, but I'm just now starting to realize what it really means. Last night was the last time we're all going to be together. It blows me mind, I can't fathom how after spending so much time together I won't see you guys for three periods a day ever again.

When someone is mean to you, you're often told "they're just jealous." I had never believed that until Monday after school, when Juliana and I were walking through the halls in our Pollack clothes, covered in paint. We got so many looks, ranging from confusion, to anger, to disgust (with no attempt to be hidden), to excitement, to jealousy. But the more negative looks we got, the more I laughed. I thought "fuck you, we had fun doing what we love for three periods and you sat in math." How can they not be jealous of us?

There is so much to be jealous of. STAC is not just a class that we attend for a grade. We are there because we want to be there. Luke does not treat us like high school kids, he treats us in a way that prepares us for real life. We get to discuss art and the world and ourselves in a mature way that many others can not. And we get to build amazing relationships we can't find out of STAC.

People ask me who my friends in school are, and I pretty much say STAC (plus Haley and Regina.) This isn't because we're a clique or a cult or we're not allowed to have friends outside of STAC. It's because we really are some of the best people Herricks has to offer. We are the smartest, most creative, most caring.

You guys all mean so much to me. As you all know, this year wasn't easy for me. Like I said in class today, I could not have asked for a more understanding group of people. Thank you for your compassion and caring, and thank you for not treating me any differently when I got back, something that means so much to me. What really makes me love this group is knowing that if I really needed someone, I could go to any one of you, even someone I'm not that close with, and they would be there for me, and knowing I'd do the same for anyone in STAC.

This was my second year in STAC, and I really don't know how I got through the first two years without it. I can't imagine a day where I couldn't remind myself it was only a few more hours until I was removed from idiocy and surrounded by intelligence. This year I was surrounded by more than intelligence when I walked into STAC- I was surrounded by love. You guys see things in me that I don't see in myself. You push me to push myself. You inspire me to be a better person. STAC made my high school experience something more than classes and drama. It made it something that no one outside of STAC will understand, but it created an amazing feeling. This year gave me an amazing feeling I didn't have last year. I don't know how we all got so lucky as to really clique, but we did.

The quote Luke read in class on friday was what finally made me start crying. I'd all but given up on working towards a career in something I want to do (whatever the fuck that may be.) The quote made me think that maybe I am here to create something. I will work towards finding what that is in college, no matter what it takes.

Lastly, I want to thank Luke for all his hard work. I can't put into words all that he has done for me, and for all of us. He pushed us, told us things we didn't want to hear, didn't give up on us, and so much more. Thank you.

I love you all, you beautiful freaks<3

I could have sworn I've written about this before

There are so many moments where I wonder where I came from. Not literally, I know I wasn't adopted. But both my parents work with numbers for a living, and my brother is a stereotypical jock. Thus, none of them are particularly artistic. Last night at dinner I said something about my big project and my brother made a comment like "that's not real work. I have to do bio homework. I could do what you're doing. How about I'll do your 'art' and you do my bio homework." I just rolled my eyes knowing he's annoying. But it really makes me think about where my creativity came from, no one around me is creative.

(on the plus side, I get more variety for my collages; I just got some of Jeffrey's old sports magazines haha.)

2 collages COMPLETELY DONE. Hoping to get another 2 done tonight [:

Stream of conciousness

I'm graduating in 26 days. I'm sitting on the couch in my pajamas watching 'Dexter's Laboratory.' I can't wait to be out of this house. Adults can't be trusted. Soon I'll be an adult. I'll be an adult in 4 months. No one can be trusted. The only people I have backing me up currently are my friends, and soon they'll be gone too. And I will be gone. And I don't even trust them. I've lost all support. I've accomplished nothing in my time in STAC. Or in high school for that matter. I need to accomplish something. I need to finish my STAC project. I need to finish my english work so I graduate. I need to get my license so I can be out of this house as much as possible. Summer will be work and friends' house. Or work and then...anywhere but home. Mom just shut off my tv. My parents...I don't even know. I feel alone and abandoned. I want to go to college and prove that I don't need anybody.

I love getting shit done! /other random shit

Yesterday during 4th period my math teacher really pissed me off. So after panicking and calling my therapist, I grabbed some magazines from the STAC room and sat in the art room with Megan. I started hacking away at a picture and tried to re-create it like a puzzle. I got home that night and actually continued the collage. I was really excited about it and I really focused on the ascetic as apposed to the content, while at the same time keeping the content with some sort of of consistency. I finished it last night and I really really like it. I'm so proud of myself for getting it done that I plan on making another collage now. I also got some writing done today during STAC.

^It looks better in real life, this is just a crappy picture

In order to continue this getting-shit-done attitude, I have to make several changes. I need to put myself on a schedule. I need to spend my off periods in the library, not the STAC room (though I will allow myself one free period a day to hang out.) I have to actually do schoolwork. I will get shit done!

Additionally, I often can't understand how I'm related to my family. I complain about them a lot but I do love them, but we're SO different. Religious and political differences aside, I am an artist, something no one else in my family is. I recently read my mom a poem I wrote, and showed that collage to my dad and both of them were like "that's nice...I don't get it." I feel like art isn't something to "get." I'm not asking them to tell me what I felt when making it, I want it to create some feelings within THEM.

Lastly, I'm stuck on something with my big project. I like writing, and in the past my writing has elicited some positive reactions. That being said, I don't know if I'm a good writer/don't think I am (granted I don't think I'm good at much of anything so perhaps my judgement is off?) Thus, I'm scared to work so hard on 12 pieces of writing only to proudly display it and have one of 2 things happen. Either a. people will directly rip it apart to my face, or b. people will say they like it then tear it apart behind my back. I don't know if I can take that. I still want to finish the project though...

Make a fucking decision, Nicole!

Alright, the big project. Some people are doing. Some people are thinking. Some people are just staring at the walls. I can honestly say that I'm in the second category, however, thinking isn't good enough. I kind of lost my passion for my original idea once it kept being morphed. I think the end-ish result of conversation is cool, but it's not for me. So I've decided to return to my original original concept of working on my writing.

Proposed project: Look back at the past year, the past year's journal entries, etc, and write some wort of piece (poem, short story, one act) for each month. Then collage around the poems (Either one one giant sheet of paper, or in a mini-book like form.)

Luke, could you please give me the names of some writers to look into?

Jim Bonney 4/28

This workshop was geared less towards finding your emotions and geared more towards applying them to acting. In the beginning of the workshop, Jim asked what we felt the energy of the room was. For once, I felt that the energy was safe, which felt crazy for me. I had a lot on my mind that day, so I was nervous to let it all go. Naturally (for me anyways) I couldn't let it all go, but I was able to use it. Screaming "NO" was the most powerful it's ever been for me. I was screaming at my thoughts to go away, and at last I was able to at least change the thoughts to something more productive.

We worked in pairs twice during the workshop. This first time I was paired with Matt which was really interesting for me because Matt's not someone I know very well. While working with him, I kind of felt like I was the more powerful one in the group (not in an "I'm so superior" kind of way-I'm not,) more like "I'm older and I'm more okay with making a complete fool of myself here" kind of way. It was really cool. I worked with Nina on the scene which I really liked. The scene was vague but I managed to come up with a whole story behind it. At first I said "I don't know if I should share my stupid idea" and I was reminded not to judge my ideas (and it ended up working.) I liked the amount of improvisation, and how real I was feeling. Instead of thinking "what should I be feeling here" I went with what I felt naturally.

Rob Goldman Workshop (4/27/10)

Firstly, I'd like to say how awesome a person Rob Goldman is. He's funny, nice, intelligent, artistic, and overall amazing.

Secondly, I've been into Postsecret for a really long time now, but never really got to contribute anything (my mom is completely anti-Postsecret. Shocking, right?) so I was very excited to be making a secret, even if I don't end up sending anything in.

I knew what we were doing as we walked down to the community center, so I started to think of a secret there. At first I thought I didn't have any secrets that no one knows. Eventually I thought of something, though by the time I got to the community center said secret had morphed. I was really excited to be working with a secret unrelated to my disorder. It was a nice change.

I was having trouble whether or not to choose secret a or secret b which was much darker. I forced myself to choose a for a change.

Shooting was really fun. I was partnered with Juliana, and she's one of my really good friends so I was comfortable around her. Even when we were shooting and the secret was serious, we laughed in between shots.

My favorite thing about the workshop is what I discovered about myself. Thinking about my secret in front of the white paper revealed things to me about why I feel that way and what other things I feel.

I'm really excited to see how the pictures came out.

I don't even know what to write.

So, Jim workshop today. I honestly can't think of words to express it. It was so emotional. I really can't think of much else. I feel like I haven't fully processed the experience yet, but a few key events stick out in my mind.

-We all formed into a circle to create a bond of energy. I felt really left out even though I was within the circle. However, at one point I felt really connected to someone that I've never felt extraordinarily connected to in real life. I was between Kalli and Alex and there were points where I could feel a lot of energy coming from Alex and it felt as if Kalli completely disappeared. I was very aware of all of Alex's energy.

-After this initial huddle, Jim asked who felt they needed another zap of energy. I reluctantly said I did. He told me to go into the middle of the circle and almost instantly I started crying. I'm not quite sure why, but I'm guessing it was a mix of not feeling like I deserved the attention, fear of vulnerability, and confusion about what the energy around me was about. He asked everyone to put their hands on my shoulders and send me some positive energy. I literally can't remember what he said after that. I was crying too much. I was so sad because even though I was in the middle of a circle of people who supposedly cared about me, I couldn't feel any energy. Instead, I felt like I had an armor around me that was constantly scanning for sarcasm. It felt like a metal detector that was made of metal, completely dysfunctional and counter productive. No matter what went through it, it was going to find sarcasm. Eventually I started feeling positive vibes from Megan, and when I opened my eyes Jim asked me if the looks on the faces of people around me looked like they wanted to help me. I still felt guarded so I think I said "I don't know." I think I finally 90% believed they did want to help which had me crying all over again. In the same instant, I wanted to never move and also run very far away.

-We read the lyrics to "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls. I could feel myself tearing up at "And I don't want the world to see me/Cause I don't think that they'd understand/When everything's made to be broken/" for so long it has seemed that everything in this world is made to be broken, and I still feel no one understands. I was brought back to when we talked about masks at the previous workshop, and how I felt Jim read my mask wrong, but I didn't even know what my mask was. "And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming" was really strange too, because I felt myself crying but no tears were coming out, and I felt like a fake. "You bleed just to know you're alive" hit me hard as well." That hardest part about the song was when we were repeating it back and forth to one another. We were repeating "and I don't want to miss you tonight" which was sad in itself, but I had my back to Megan and Nina and I could hear Megan bawling. It was so hard to listen to her cry and not be able to go over and help her. It physically hurt me.

-At the end we were all looking at each other in the circle, and Megan, Nina, and Jill were crying. I was crying too, but no tears were coming out. The thing that made me sob was staring at Jill who was across the circle from me. I couldn't help but thinking how she's so beautiful and well liked, and yet she too was crying. I thought back to myself in the past, and how I was convinced if I was beautiful all my problems would be solved, and staring at someone who is beautiful crying reminded me that this wasn't the case.

My last quarter in STAC project

O what a bittersweet symphony... I'm so funny.

For my big project, I want to create an installation. Last year, I started a blog called ConfrontHer2008 (www.xanga.com/confronther2008) where I asked people “what would you say to the person who hurt you most in the world?” I got over 200 anonymous responses. Since this is my last year in STAC, I really want to take full advantage of the opportunities I have here. Thus I want to create an instillation (when else am I going to have this opportunity?) However, at the moment I’m questioning whether or not I want to continue with the same question or start a new one. On sunday I visited Binghamton and wound up talking to my friend Tom about my project. His response was “I don’t agree with that. I don’t think it’s healthy.” He thinks holding on to anger from the past is useless. On one hand, I agree, but on the other hand I think about closure. I never really had closure, so in theory that’s what the installation should do. However, in practice, it’s less about closure and more about making other feel the way I felt. A big (slightly morbid) part of me wants to make my viewers cry. But at the same time, I’m considering making it into a positive piece, because I am different then I was when I started the blog. I’m considering sending out a new blog and asking “what do you like the most about yourself?” This would likely move me to tears.

Keeping all of this in mind, my goals for the week are:

-Figure out what I’m going to ask

-Do some research on other installation artists. Right now I have a very specific idea of what I want in the installation, but researching people who actually know what they’re doing can only help me, not hurt me.

It started with a t-shirt (Jim Bonney day 2)

This workshop started out decently, turned awful, then got better. The meditation-like exercise was helpful and I was able to focus for the most part. It reminded me a lot of something I'd been advised to do in therapy. It was advised to keep a baby/young picture of yourself in your wallet so that when you want to hurt yourself in any way, you can look at that picture and think "would I harm this child?" It works sometimes.

In the beginning of the screaming I experienced a weird sensation. I could feel my body getting into it but my brain pulling me back to reality (in a bad way.) I'd like to get around that.

Then the bad. I was wearing a shirt that I got at a thrift store. It's a size XL and I wear it as a dress. However, it was impossible to fully engage my body for fear of accidentally exposing myself. So the simple solution would be to tie my shirt tight with a hairband. Tried it, got self conscious. Tried it again. Could not bring myself to walk around in something that tight/short. I was positive everyone was looking at me thinking "well she really did a 180 from last year. Maybe too much so" if you get what I mean. I understand logically no one was looking at me they were focusing on themselves. At this point I felt I might cry so I ran to the nearest chair. I was reminded of my first day of a summer program I did in 2008. This was the first day I realized I had a problem. I was supposed to be doing an acting exercise but all I could focus on was my body. It was the same way today, which scared the crap out of me.

Eventually I rejoined the group, at which point we did a group breathing huddle thing. Everyone had their eyes closed but I couldn't bring myself to partake. I just kept looking around wanting the workshop to be over. Then we listened to this song which thoroughly freaked me out in it's relevance to me. I got even more freaked out when Jim was asking us each about portions of lyrics and the portion he asked me about was "the mirror is not your best friend in the world." I actually started laughing out of nerves. I hate myself for doing that because it seems like I'm proud of my issues but in my head everyone already knows and I'm graduating in months so fuck it. But I know it bothers other people and then I feel like everyone hates me.

We practiced saying irrelevant text with varying emotions, and that I really got into. I felt connected to Doug, whom I was paired up with, and I felt able to project emotions onto him. It probably helped that I was paired with Doug as apposed to Megan or Nina or someone I'm much closer with because it allowed me to pull all things I was saying away from the context of real life.

The last thing we did was discuss our masks, our lower selves, and our higher selves. Not so shockingly, this made me hate myself for my openness again because I know people are sick of it and I felt like crap the second I spoke. My mask was "I'm in trouble" (Jim suggested that one, but I don't really get it) my lower self was "I don't like myself" and my higher self was "I've gotten better and I'll keep getting better." The main thing that bothered me was my mask, partially because I didn't really get it, and partially because the mask I have in the workshop is not an accurate representation of the mask I wear to school. I think my mask for school would be more like "I'm holding it together." By school I mean outside of STAC (which is real school but I'm much more open during STAC.)

Whenever someone said something negative, I assumed it was about me. Which is selfish and stupid but that's me. Especially when Becky said "I hate you" I was assuming it was about me. Which doesn't make sense, I'm not that important.

Overall, I was less cynical than last time, but more insecure...if that makes any sense?

Tape Recorders

Earlier I found myself wishing for something I invented in my head as a child but kind of forgot I made up. I wish there was a mind reading device that was hooked up to your brain and typed up all of your thoughts. When I was younger I got the idea that my life would make a great book (I have no idea why I thought this) so I used to narrate everything I did in my head as if it were becoming a novel. And I used to wish for this tape recorder to put everything down as I thought it. This habit of narrating my life in my head like a story book has not gone away, and it often frustrates me to no end. But I still wish for that tape recorder thing. Then all the clouded thoughts might be worth it.

Jim Bonney and Cynicism

So I'm finally getting to do the Jim Bonney workshop. I'm really excited because from what I hear it's something everyone in STAC should do at least once and I haven't done yet. That being said, the workshop made me really really really angry at myself. Furious in fact. Which sucks on so many levels, especially because when I expressed "anger at myself" as an emotion in class I was told that it's a useless emotion. I know it is, but I've lived with it for so long I don't know what life would be like without it. I'm angry at myself for being so cynical. When Jim said that he wants to get us out of our heads, I thought "many have tried and many have failed." I might have said it out loud (which was very rude and I feel awful though I actually don't know if I said it out loud.) I was still narrating in my head and thinking other place and trying to connect the exercise and over all not being present in the moment. I liked screaming and got really into it at points but whenever I started to get into it I became aware that I was into it and had to start all over.

I was very self conscious during the workshop as well. Obviously I'm always self conscious but in a different way this time. I was more nervous to how Jim was judging me than the rest of the class was. I'm not very hard to read and actors tend to be very good at reading people, which sometimes freaks me out. So I think I unconsciously made the decision to be upfront about my insecurities but to be sarcastic and almost obnoxious about it as a tough girl front. That way I could control what was read about me. But I don't want to come off as a bitch who's proud of her issues. I want to be who I am without my insecurities.

Tomorrow I'll try to better clear my mind and be more of myself.

Let's see how far we've come

I've been focusing a lot on change. I have issues with change, it's hard for me to let go. Additionally, I'm graduating in a little over 2 months. So I've been thinking about how much people change physically between freshman and senior year. So because I have an intense pre-disposition to procrastination and facebook creeping, I created these of all STAC seniors (minus Lizy, she doesn't have a facebook but I'll try and do one of her soon.)

A tribute to the seniors in STAC

Manda Jean

My friend Nicole posted photos of herself on facebook done by her friend who is a photographer. In the caption, she suggested we visit her friend's website. This was one of the pictures of my friend:

shocking that they appealed to me, right.

Anyways I decided to visit her friend's site, http://mandajeanphoto.com/Manda/Home.html and discovered she's done some pretty cool stuff. I especially liked things out of her conceptual section and children section

this one was my favorite

I also really like how poetic her artist statements are (some are original some are quotes from other writers)

Just Life Imploding. No Big.

Sorry in advance for the ranting-ness of this post. I should look at the good side of what's going right in my life but right now I can't see much of that SO;

-COLLEGE! The good news-I got accepted to 9 schools. The bad news-I got accepted to 9 schools thus have to make a decision! I've eliminated 3 maybe 4. But there's the problem of (story of my life) what my parents want vs. what I want. Then you throw in money. What we can and can't afford. I get it, private schools are too expensive for the most part. What I don't understand is how most of this financial aid crap works and for whatever reason my parents wont explain it to me (probably because I'm curious about Ithaca which I really like but my parents don't want me that far away.) It's gotten to the point where I had to steal a copy of the financial aid report because they wouldn't tell me! Then comes the Jewish population. I need to go to a school with a decent Jewish population and hillel so I can meet a nice Jewish boy and make nice Jewish babies. For once, I agree with my parents on something religion-based (apocalypse?) I understand I can't marry a non-jew. Right now I don't have much of an opinion on it but their reasoning on that one makes sense to me. That and the fact that I'd like to NOT be disowned...so Jewish population limits me further. Then you get into programs and what I want. I don't know shit about Binghamton. I applied because "you're a Jewish kid from Long Island, you apply to Binghamton" has been drilled in my head since middle school. And I got in (btdubsss; admissions officers at Bing and Macaulay are on crack for accepting me, just saying.) Andy my parents are like YAYAYAYAY. I don't know anything bout it. I get it, I'll learn when I visit, but it sucks not knowing now. Then we have my parents' and therapists' faith in letting me go more than 2 hours away...no comment other than I've been doing well since I got home...Last but not least you have the college experience. Do I go to a school with great programs but no social life and is mostly a commuter school? Or do I go to a school with potentially less opportunities and a college scene? And no, I don't just mean parties, I mean the whole package. But my dad made me feel like crap and that I have to choose between programs and opportunities and fun and I know there has to be a way to have both. Plus if I choose fun he'll think "you stupid party girl caring more about that than her future" but I genuinely believe I'll do better academically if I'm in an environment that suits me. Plus, my middle school experience was fucked up. My high school experience was better, but still fucked up (thanks to the disappearing acts I pulled during junior and senior year.) I think I fucking DESERVE the college experience that I want.

/issue

-PROCRASTINATION- I've done NO work this vacation and I'm going to fail AP Lit and STAC. Greeeeat. I legitimately CAN'T stop procrastinating no matter how hard I try, I just CAN'T. And I HATE myself for it.

/issue

-DAILY PRACTICE- Well considering the last sentence of the last issue contains the words "I hate myself" it's a bit hard to write nice shit about myself now isn't it. When this whole stupid vacation has fucked me over so badly to the point where I just want to get under the goddam blankets and cry, I can't find positive qualities in myself, SORRY.

/issue

/rant

Collaging

I finally brought my magazines to school to collage during my off periods. It was an interesting and frustrating experience. I didn't finish anything, but I almost got through a small one. I learned that I need to work more on the aesthetic than the content, because at the moment my content has been pretty consistent. It's a combination of feminine, hurt, angry, inspirational, and eye catching. I started collaging because it was a way to express myself that didn't involve drawing (which always ends in me being insanely frustrated.) But then I discovered why I really like collaging.

Mini artist statement on collaging: I really like the idea of beautifying the world. I think the world has so much potential but I feel that people are tainting it. Thus I like being able to take other people's work and make it into something that feels more artistic and personal. Additionally, some of my issues lie in society. All of my cutouts come from magazines, magazines that are often filled with infuriating ads, pictures, and articles. I love being able to reconstruct some negative cutouts in my work.

^ One I made while away.

No one's going to read this.

Hello,

I'm about to embark on what I'm pretty sure will be a painful experience with you. In front of me is the journal I kept from the middle of 10th grade until the end of 11th grade, the time when things got really bad for me. I feel the need to read over it, and I feel the need to blog about it.

Ew. I'm disgusted with myself for that. Literally disgusted in both my idiocy and naivety.

Well...that's just lovely. Too bad that was the first of many times I'd write "Nicole is [insert negative adjective here]"

Huh. Pretty sure I did let myself become another medal in the end, if that's who I was thinking about. My bad? Heh, I'm apathetic about that situation apparently. It's tiny in the grand scheme of things.

Wow. I remember trying to start that story. That was fucked up. Really strange and creepy. I'm almost tempted to finish it but take it out of the context of my life. I might just do that.

I'm embarrassed for myself.

Wow I was proud of being that distorted. And yet looking back my actions weren't that bad at all. I don't know how to feel if I wanted so badly to be sick and thought in such a sick way but in reality wasn't sick physically. Actually that was my life all first and second quarter.

Were all of these original lines? Because most of them suck, but one or two are pretty good. I just don't know if I wrote them.

Heh. that's just plain funny.

I might re-work this poem. It's not terrible.

Apparently I've had an obsession with the imagery of circles and rings for a while now.

I need to re-write that one day so I don't forget. But it's so painful to write out. I know I wrote it somewhere, I just don't know where.

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH THAT'S THE FUNNIEST DREAM I'VE EVER HAD EVER! Wow that's embarrassing but it made me literally laugh out loud.

I thought that would come true some day, that I would sink to that low.

I don't want to read this. I don't want to read this. Why am I reading this. These nightmares still bother me.

Within two pages I went from cracking up to almost crying. Dreams are weird like that.

This was the week before the hospital. And it still wasn't enough. It will never be enough. Plus if those eyes could see me now, they would gauge themselves.

This was a STAC exercise but I don't have the patience to re-read it.

Wow. Mentally disturbed LOLcats. That's insane.

I had "stop [a basic life function]" on my to-do list. Why can't I just say what the disorder was? Pretty much anyone who reads this already knows.

I'm constrained but a lot of things.

I had physical pain caused by the illness. I recorded such bad things.

There's that circle imagery again.

Well, some things don't change. Some ridiculous things still make me happy.

I don't remember my mom saying that. But I'm not surprised that she did.

"The reasons people hate me are the same reasons other people love me"- Jonny S. I'm glad this ended on a good note.

I'm way too numb for this.

Artist Statement

I like to think that I live through my art. That even when times are rough, and I’m lying to the entire world about the state of my sanity, I’m honest in my art. My poetry (though it maybe confined to the desktop of my Mac) allows me to explore my emotions. My acting allows me to explore the emotions of others and then in turn think about how the characters’ emotions and situations apply to my life. I think I create art in various other, non-specific ways as well. I guess in a way, art allows me to be selfish in a way I try to avoid being in “real life.” I kind of hate to say it, but at this point in time, I think the main purpose of my art is to help me. My mission is to one day feel strong enough and confidant enough in my art to share it with the world freely. But at the moment, I will settle for creating for me.

I posted this on facebook, but I wanted to blog it too

So today I was thinking about the past few years.
Truth be told, 2008 ended pretty badly.
2009 all-around sucked.
And 2010 so far? Not much better.

But it's only JANUARY! There is still so much time for me to turn things around, for the rest of the year and for years to come!

Living vs. Merely Existing

Today I found this article online: http://www.dumblittleman.com/2007/06/39-ways-to-live-and-not-merely-exist.html called "39 Ways to Live, and Not Merely Exist." Before even reading it, my eyes welled up with tears.

For the past few months, maybe even longer- okay almost definitely longer, I've been existing, not living. It sucks. It flat out sucks. These don't have to be the best years of my life, but I want them to be something. I honestly don't remember much of last year because it was just being done on autopilot. I don't want that anymore. And if I can't live right now, I'm going to make sure I live in college. I have to.

On that note, I have something to tell you guys. As some of you may have noticed, I did not return to school after Winter break. While I will be returning eventually, it will not be for a while, most likely another three weeks at least. While I'd prefer to keep my exact whereabouts my business, I will tell you all this; Hopefully, where I am right now will help me learn to live, not just exist.

I plan on telling people outside of STAC that I have Mono, so I'd appreciate no one saying anything to anyone about my temporary leave of absence. I miss you all, and hope to see you soon. Best of luck with STAC live, and feel free to contact me via Facebook, call, text, or AIM if you'd like.

Regards,

Nicole

I've gotten a lot stupider within the past few years of this decade

And I don't mean that in the usual Nicole self-anger way. I mean I've legitimately gotten stupider. Besides the fact that I used to be a straight A student despite my problems, I don't READ anymore. I can't remember the last book I read all the way through. I used to love reading. What the fuck is with me? I'm so mad at myself I'm like seeing red. I need to read. I need a good book to read. I'll probably read Life Without [youknowwhogrrrrrr] soon. Hopefully it's worth it.

And back to what I said about grades...I was home-schooled for about 3 months in 7th grade due to anxiety reasons. I still got great grades. But I don't know if now I'm lazier or I just can't deal with problems as well. Maybe it's that my problems have gotten bigger? I don't even know anymore. Time to get my ass into gear, time to get some good mid-year grades to colleges, time to get into more colleges and not get rejected after being accepted for grades dropping.

O wait, I can't. Fuck.

And let me explain the difference between this and my old self pity bullshit. I'm not self pitying. I don't want anyone else's pity. I'm just SO angry with myself I can barely breathe. I'm just fucking angry.

Peace out cub scouts.