....title says it all I think. I'm just completely lost. I have no idea what to do with myself. This week is finals for my third semester of school. (Believe me I would be doing backflips if I knew how to) Now I have one more semester to go before May, and in May, I graduate. This semester I did nothing I was proud of though. I was supposed to do an old age prosthetic/application, I actually BROKE it. And me and this teacher don't exactly see eye to eye anyways. I can't explain the entire situation, but on the whole if I could pass with a C for that class I'd be just fine with it. If I don't have that project it's just fine with me.... But I'm hoping student participation and stuff will help even it out. It's just... A bad piece. Clean and simple. I have a bust that I AM excited about, he needs painted though.. I hope I can finish him in time... And same with my three other classes.
Next semester I'm taking "fashion and design" instead of what most of my class is doing which is "animatronics" which is actually what I wanted to do in the first place. So.. Yeah I'm gonna take the girly classes this semester, and learn more about airbrushing-which I AM excited about; the airbrushing I mean. Not necessarily the girly stuff, but I mean I know how to do all that, so that will be easy. So maybe I should have a more positive attitude on it...
but what I'm trying to say is, what this comes down to is I now HATE make up. This school sucked the passion right out of me. I mean, I'd still like to work for movies, and I'd still like to make characters. But I don't know if I can do it... I'd try if I was offered a job of course but, I mean, I haven't been proud of ANYTHING I made here, and before we graduate we have to show ALL of our work to Tom Savini himself. We put up these tables and everyone shows their work, and people, you're peers, and Tom and anyone can look at your stuff. And for some reason I think about the tables ALL the time and I just want to cry when I think about them.
Once I told me mom jokingly "if this make up artist thing doesn't work out I could always do this" and she pretty much snapped at me stating "oh you're going to be a make up artist! We've spent way too much money on this for you NOT to be a make up artist! YOU BETTER BE A MAKE UP ARTIST!"
...I hope I'm just in a funk or something because after hearing that I think that means I'm in trouble.
....So much has happened over this weekend I can't even write it down in words. And half the reason is simply because of how emotional it truly was/is. If I start I'll never stop. And I'm already rambling pretty well.
i will tell you one thing though.. I keep thinking about death for some odd reason. Not necessarily about committing suicide or "oh god I want to die". It's more so just the premises of the thing. But I keep seeing in my head when I try to sleep myself stabbing myself in the stomach with a knife, and taking all my pills at once, and cutting my wrists or throat. Like "there's so many ways you could do it.."
Simply because I'm scared of what awaits me in the future I guess.
Ill NEVER kill myself. ...Or at least I don't think I will. I couldn't cause such pain to my family members. (We're already pretty fucked up to begin with; all they need is my corpse on the ground)
I'm sorry this journal entry is so dark, and usually my entries usually seem to always be dark. But it seems to be that the only time I need to write something down is when I'm hurting, or angry or lost, and hoping a stranger will tell me that everything will be ok. Because talking to strangers just feels better than talking to family or friends. Strangers you don't know, so they don't judge or know you at all. They just listen and give their own opinion. And their brutally honest. Something I wish everyone was. No matter how badly the truth hurts, why can't everyone just tell the truth? About everything? I just don't get it...
well. I'm exhausted now. I have to prepare to get yelled at for my incomplete assignment tomorrow. Good night everyone. Sorry if I freaked any of you out with my talk of blood and suicide.
Like I said... Just trying to be honest.