2006-09-28 - 11:40 p.m.
Life. What really is the meaning to that word? No one I know has any clue what it means, and I sure as hell don't know what the hell that means. But thats not the reason I'm scribbling in this diary.
Just before I returned to school, my father had me see a councelor. He was so sure that I was having a problem, and he thought my problem was that I wanted to see him miserable, therefore, I was failing my classes just to make him mad, just to get him upset. He has a heart condition, he has already had two heart attacks and I'm wondering if I'll be the one to cause the next one. I'm not depressed or anything, nor am I happy at all. Though I think it would be better if I were to just lay around my room, do homework, play my guitar, play my saxophone, write and draw inspirations from my sadness. I had started a story sometime ago, around the middle of summer and it was after I had a fight with my dad, after I saw how much I really gained weight, and after so many bullshit from my friends. I was so down and empty inside, so I started a story about a woman finding herself at a battle full of dead people. She finds a baby at the edge of its life, as she tries to find it food it dies in her hands. And well I stopped writing after half an hour. But now I really want to finish that story, but the only way for me to finish it is if I were back in that depression mood. Hopefully I will be able to tap that moodiness so I can at last be at peace with my story.
So we'll see what happens tomorrow...
