As the title of this post suggests things are not exactly ideal. I feel as if my life has quickly taken a turn for the worst, but at the same time it has all been a gradual process that has led me to this hopelessness I now feel. The audition I have previously mentioned in earlier posts? The Ryerson one? The one I felt so confident about, the school that I really enjoyed, the place that really felt like home, didn't accept me. "Your audition was not as competitive as others." Thaaaankkks. So that's fine. I cried for a day and got over it. This is the theatre business after all. So now I await news back from York University. Might I remind you that it is May 16 and the university application centre requires my decision by the 2nd of June. I feel as if York has no intention of accepting me, or even declining me anytime soon. So needless to say this wait alone is killing me. My entire future is in limbo, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. To make matters worse my 18th birthday is fast approaching. But that's not the only special thing about June 3rd. This day doubles as the day I am due to move out of my parents' house after a few select brutal fights.
This may not seem like something to be posting on the internet, but I'm not concerned that anyone of serious consequence is going to read this. The only way to see this as a bright situation is to continue to tell myself that this kind of hardship builds character. Yet deep within, my heart is broken to think that my life is coming to this: a failed teenager with what was once a bright future is now moving out of the house after being to difficult for anyone to handle. This is...... not what I pictured. Not what I dreamed or hoped for. To say the least. And what am I going to do about it? Wait. I guess.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
may 12 2011- my lovey dovey poem of the month, a little bit genius
Well the sun is shining
But you'd never know it
And you're heart's in my chest
But I'd never show it
And our house of love's been burning for awhile
But our years together doesn't make this worthwhile
And you know that I'm the one to make you smile
So in this broken house we try to re-tile
This is a fixer upper but it can be done
But after the damage, this should be fun
To renovate, and become one
The world we live in needs it's sun
And we are the fire that's been burning bright
And it usually keeps me up at night
The brilliance of this lasting doubt
Your love is my water, and there's been a drought.
But I won't kick you out.
This is your home, your place of rest
And always remember,
my heart's inside your chest.
But you'd never know it
And you're heart's in my chest
But I'd never show it
And our house of love's been burning for awhile
But our years together doesn't make this worthwhile
And you know that I'm the one to make you smile
So in this broken house we try to re-tile
This is a fixer upper but it can be done
But after the damage, this should be fun
To renovate, and become one
The world we live in needs it's sun
And we are the fire that's been burning bright
And it usually keeps me up at night
The brilliance of this lasting doubt
Your love is my water, and there's been a drought.
But I won't kick you out.
This is your home, your place of rest
And always remember,
my heart's inside your chest.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
may 10th - well the sun is shining, but you'd never know it.
I can't describe the cloud looming over me.
I feel it hover over my every action.
It's a presence I've come to deal with
With time it's become something of a friend
But only in it's prevalent familiarity.
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately
Though I don't have much to think about.
After all, are these problems even real?
They seem all blown up like a camera on zoom.
Picking at imperfections of my life and amplifying the echoes of a girl going nowhere fast
And it's all creating these irrational fears
That in a few years tim I'll be in the same start that I am now.
My mind doesn't always operate in forward motions.
Lets get lost in these foreign notions of what we call dreams.
And all the others have aspirations
While I've got hesitation
Because all my life,one thing turns into another nothing.
Nothing stays with me except this dark, dark cloud.
It depicts the future that entails nothing but hard work and heart break that will never pay off.
All I can do is pay for these friends to stay just so that I don't feel lonely in the world.
But what is lonely anyways? Isn't it just facing facts that every back is turned to me, and I'll never be free?
This is gonna haunt me. This isn't the life I signed up for I want more than:
changing scenery and shifting shapes.
This life begs for someone else to do it justice.
But I'm all it's got. And it's got me all tied in knots. This world is fraught with only three kinds of people:
those that are talented, those that work hard to make a living, and those that do both.
Then there's me. I am neither.
And I am none of the above.
I hope that my elbows rub
with one of these people
so that I may feel the joy of being human again
But I've lost all sense of touch and taste what a waste
of human flesh, and eyelashes.
But I don't let anyone know
about nature's mistake, give this a break
Don't press too hard on the issue.
It's fragile and weak
Speak in code to me if you must and trust
that I need to hear the words:
your life is worth living, don't compromise it by dying.
I feel it hover over my every action.
It's a presence I've come to deal with
With time it's become something of a friend
But only in it's prevalent familiarity.
I've been doing a lot of thinking lately
Though I don't have much to think about.
After all, are these problems even real?
They seem all blown up like a camera on zoom.
Picking at imperfections of my life and amplifying the echoes of a girl going nowhere fast
And it's all creating these irrational fears
That in a few years tim I'll be in the same start that I am now.
My mind doesn't always operate in forward motions.
Lets get lost in these foreign notions of what we call dreams.
And all the others have aspirations
While I've got hesitation
Because all my life,one thing turns into another nothing.
Nothing stays with me except this dark, dark cloud.
It depicts the future that entails nothing but hard work and heart break that will never pay off.
All I can do is pay for these friends to stay just so that I don't feel lonely in the world.
But what is lonely anyways? Isn't it just facing facts that every back is turned to me, and I'll never be free?
This is gonna haunt me. This isn't the life I signed up for I want more than:
changing scenery and shifting shapes.
This life begs for someone else to do it justice.
But I'm all it's got. And it's got me all tied in knots. This world is fraught with only three kinds of people:
those that are talented, those that work hard to make a living, and those that do both.
Then there's me. I am neither.
And I am none of the above.
I hope that my elbows rub
with one of these people
so that I may feel the joy of being human again
But I've lost all sense of touch and taste what a waste
of human flesh, and eyelashes.
But I don't let anyone know
about nature's mistake, give this a break
Don't press too hard on the issue.
It's fragile and weak
Speak in code to me if you must and trust
that I need to hear the words:
your life is worth living, don't compromise it by dying.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
May 6th 2011 - my feeling's on change
Change:
It's upsetting to watch
How much plans can change
Like channels on a television
Switching from program to program
But you're not in charge of the remote
You sit close, a bystander
To your surroundings
Waiting. Always waiting.
Situations arise and fall.
We make plans based on forever changing elements
We place bets on the weather
On the traffic
We use the past to predict the future
We use daily routines as a compass
But we forget that the world keeps spinning
It doens't take us into account
Still we make plans, we prepare our lives
Based on elements
It's safe to say: that these plans often fall through
But we make new ones. We formulate based on present circumstances
objects, times, places
We often forget
that maybe
There is also change
Within ourselves.
This poem was inspired by the ongoing changes of plans in terms of university and college stuff this year in grade 12. It's crazy overwhelming. I never pictured it to be this way, but changes and feelings are forever differing. I've gone through phases where I want to go to a certain school, but after a few weeks I change my mind, and weigh the costs and benefits of each place etc. It's stressful to say the least. And not to make everyone else's struggle seem trivial, but when you have things like auditions for universities it adds a whole new level to things. When you send in your grades that's all you have to do, you wait for the schools to say: well... they've got the appropriate average, send them an acceptance letter.
Theatre is a bit different. You rely on a single day, a single MINUTE to show the judges what you've got. And not going to sugar coat it: the odds aren't exactly stacked in your favour.
So herre's the kicker. My auditions are over. It's May 7, I have to send in my decision on the 2 of June.
I've been accepted to guelph (last choice) and York and Ryerson still have not "made their decision"
so... my future is in limbo right now. It's killing me. All of my friends are set for school they're in the process of sorting out residence stuff and the living arrangement details and the money. What have I done? I have sat on my butt and waited and waited and waited. Nothing. My last audition was on the 25 of april and I've been checking my application statuses every day since. I'm a nervous wreck. I just want the waiting to be over one way or another. Fingers are so very very crossed. EEEEEEEEEEEK.
It's upsetting to watch
How much plans can change
Like channels on a television
Switching from program to program
But you're not in charge of the remote
You sit close, a bystander
To your surroundings
Waiting. Always waiting.
Situations arise and fall.
We make plans based on forever changing elements
We place bets on the weather
On the traffic
We use the past to predict the future
We use daily routines as a compass
But we forget that the world keeps spinning
It doens't take us into account
Still we make plans, we prepare our lives
Based on elements
It's safe to say: that these plans often fall through
But we make new ones. We formulate based on present circumstances
objects, times, places
We often forget
that maybe
There is also change
Within ourselves.
This poem was inspired by the ongoing changes of plans in terms of university and college stuff this year in grade 12. It's crazy overwhelming. I never pictured it to be this way, but changes and feelings are forever differing. I've gone through phases where I want to go to a certain school, but after a few weeks I change my mind, and weigh the costs and benefits of each place etc. It's stressful to say the least. And not to make everyone else's struggle seem trivial, but when you have things like auditions for universities it adds a whole new level to things. When you send in your grades that's all you have to do, you wait for the schools to say: well... they've got the appropriate average, send them an acceptance letter.
Theatre is a bit different. You rely on a single day, a single MINUTE to show the judges what you've got. And not going to sugar coat it: the odds aren't exactly stacked in your favour.
So herre's the kicker. My auditions are over. It's May 7, I have to send in my decision on the 2 of June.
I've been accepted to guelph (last choice) and York and Ryerson still have not "made their decision"
so... my future is in limbo right now. It's killing me. All of my friends are set for school they're in the process of sorting out residence stuff and the living arrangement details and the money. What have I done? I have sat on my butt and waited and waited and waited. Nothing. My last audition was on the 25 of april and I've been checking my application statuses every day since. I'm a nervous wreck. I just want the waiting to be over one way or another. Fingers are so very very crossed. EEEEEEEEEEEK.
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