I don't know what I'm doing with myself. I don't know what's happening to my life. I don't know if it's good or bad. I don't know, and not knowing is kind of nice. I'm dragging my feet and blinking once, then twice, then three times. I'm telling myself I can handle it and I totally can. I totally can't. Feeling whatever I'm feeling. Doing whatever I'm doing. Digging a new hole and filling another one up. Getting rid of past? Building future? Creating something I already have? Creating something worse than before? I got home last night at the usual time. I got home last night at 12:30 and my dad just smiled and asked, "Have fun?" I sniffled and said, "Yea." Then went to my room. My house is cool inside, cool as in cold. I'm pleased because I don't like trying to fall asleep in a hot bedroom on a hot bed. Sleep. It doesn't come easy. I'm sleeping the opposite way now. My head going the opposite direction because I feel like I can't breathe with my face in the corner anymore. My face and my legs and my arms crowded in the corner. So now i spread out and toss the blankets on the floor. I guess I breathe easier. My voice is cracking and scratchy since I'm sick. I haven't been sick in a while, I'm not taking it well. What's worse is trying to still do everything. I'm working, I'm not calling in, I'm coughing. Fuck. You should let me know when I'm acting up, in a polite way, but let me know. I'm not diverse, I'm not new, I'm not dynamite, I'm not neat, but I notice when they say shit to her. When they take what she's doing with her life and they bash it down, they mock it. She's sitting there taking it. I'm sitting there, not defending her. This is what I do, I place my hand on her shoulder and give her a glance to let her know I know. To let her know that she can shrug it off and forget about it. But I don't think that's enough. That's not what I should have done. It didn't shut them up. I should have shut them up. And I still don't let her love me as much as she tries. I don't want her to show it, is that evil of me? I don't know if I care... So much is happening so fast. Feelings changing, emotions going crazy. We're all pulling together and trying to make everything happen before it stops. It's like we're afraid of beginning. Everyday I'm hanging out with someone from highschool, someone I normally wouldn't hang out with, or someone that I rarely saw in school. We're all reaching out and grasping at each other. It wasn't like this last summer, no one cared nearly as much. I don't know if I'm afraid, if they're afraid, if we're afraid, if he's afraid, if she's afraid, if you're afraid, but right now we're around. We're around just before we know we wont see each other again. And now there's this huge boom of me taking pictures. I don't know if it's an addiction, but I can't stop. I'm so pleased that people want me to take pictures of them that I don't care how much it costs. Just let me keep you, let me document and hang around to observe, I'm crazy about it. I'm crazy about faces and expressions and light and color and people existing. It used to be writing. It used to be a pen and paper, my composition book, but I found a new way of expression and it has nothing and everything to do with me. I'm putting myself out there without exisitng. I'm putting myself out there, using you. You and your face and your body and your expressions and your light and your color and your exsitance and you're beautiful. Lets not change anything right now, cause I'm feeling just alright. -Amanda