senior year/ my future ahead of me and a book to try and write in a month. crap. well here I am, trying ot write a book and get my art done. if i do this, i am my own here. devoid of proper grammer and capitialization.
and now, the story begins.
It's been six years now.
I have a aqua sweater. it looks good against the wood paneling in my basement. I'd rather sit against the wall than the chair.
The world has ended in a sense, at least the old world. The new community has formed. All of us, the anarchists and the dreaemrs, we have united. We formed a new place, trying to get rid of the things in us that destroyed the world.
we are the surviiors.
we are the ones destined to make the world what it was b3efgore we came
I am in the aritsts pueblo.
the mechanics base is 6 miles away.
We are all doing what we do best, our talent. and we fix the world in the process.
I do art, like I said. and I'm a medic, and a healer.
It's a lot to do.
I wouldn't change it for anything.
So you want to know how we operate, what we do. Well, it goes something like this.
there is no religion, you can marry who you want, and we all all communist. I know it's a lot to wrap your head around. Sorry. Even i have a hard time here and there. So, we all live together. and we go around with these random mystical powers that people have. you know what, let me stop myself. this is too confusing for even me right now. i had a late night.
oh, pardon me, i forgot to introduce myself. i'm Mia. The art freak. I live in a huge house with 13 other people.
It;s pretty amazing. Life is'nt perfect here. This morning I managed to dump a bag of my favorite trail mix all over the floor. Karma sucks. People were cool about it though. If I were a kid, I would have gotten called a klutz or something.
I had a weird family. My grandmother would ram her ring finger in the base of my spine to get me to stand up straight.
But anyways, that was the past I can;t change. It did leave me seclusive and bitter. The past effects us in ways we might not realize. I try to be self aware. Well, I;m here in the artists house, with the yoga and tranquility and hippies and musicians. We have a lot of pets. Lizards and dogs and such. I know I sound like I'm a pit head. i'm not. I'm just okay with life right now. People don;t hurt me here and it's something I'm not used to yet.
I sound so emo right now. I guess it;s me healing. I hope its me healing. it;s gotta be the worst thing in toe world to be nowhere, to just simply exist. yeck.
Well, here I am, Mia the girl who;s not as confident as she seems. Not that doesn;t men I;m a fake. i don;t think itdoes. i think it just makes me human.
so there;s this guy i like. i don;t know if he even sees me. i'm so screwed up from past relationships i don;t know how to get his attention. His name is Josh, he lives in the mechanics base. he wakes up and thorws clothes on. I admire that, I wish I could be that carefree. Girls care a lot about how they look so boys will notice them, but boys don;t seem to care at all about how they look sometimes. So why do the girls try so hard?
I don't know where I'm getting at with all this. I just think up random things. DId you ever notice that from July to November it spell out Jason? Or did you ever stop and wonder where homeless people get the cardboard and sharpies for their signs. and if they are outside so much, how come the signs stay in so good of condition.
I complain too much to. Complain to Josh. Everytime I see people i like I complian. I don;t get it. Saw him earlier, walking around, enjoying the air, I like that about him. He doesn't survive, he lives.
I think he's smart. He doesn't. he thinks I'm smart, I don't think i am.
Sometimes I;m lonely after the day ends. When I'm in my room listening to people laughing downstairs.They wouldn;t care if I joined them but something is hold me back.
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