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hello monday- go back to where you originated from!

Michael J Demeo

dearies, i’ve been lacking on the blog front, that I know, but the thing is- I’ve just been so busy. Even after exams were over.  I originally thought that everything would mellow out, however, that has not been the case.  I prepped all week last week for the Maine State Debate Championship.  It was tiring, and time consuming nonetheless.  Often times, I choose debate over school work, but I’ve never been inclined to put too much effort towards school- it’s always come easily for me.  It’s somewhat cliche, yeah, but I’ve never let that stop me before.  Anyway, onward to how busy I’ve been. I went to a party Friday- it was not fun in any way shape or form. I did not enjoy myself the least bit, and I’m actually being incredibly serious. No sarcasm evident there…again, I’m being serious.  I didn’t get home until 00:30, and by that time I was still wide awake.  Annie kept me up for another two hours and then I feel asleep for an hour and a half, before awaking at 4:30 am to get ready to drive to Orono.  The rounds went really well, all in all, I came out with a 5-1 record, and I was named state champion.  I was content with that, but at the same time, it wasn’t something that I was suspecting.  My day Saturday lasted from 4am-2am Sunday, a 22hr day was well worth it to be entirely honest, and I enjoyed myself thoroughly.  It was good enough for me, and with that being said, all I did Sunday was sleep and babysit.  No homework was accomplished, but I didn’t really think I could accomplish homework with so much sleep deprivation. 

Cari Ann Wayman

I wonder if my life is like a double exposure? Two personas, two distorted people.  I suppose it is, I am one person in essence, but my personality carries me off into different directions in different circumstances.  As I said last night, I’ve been humbled and thoroughly embarrassed, however, tis fine, I needed that.  I’ve always been grounded but that just reinforced what I always knew.  I’ve been writing a lot more than usual, it’s helped me out, relaxed me if you will, and that’s what I’ve been needing.  I’ve thought about a boy of sorts too- wondered whether or not he knows me and whether or not he likes me.  But that’s just a childish game, its not one of merit, nor is it one of skill.  Motives are what drive it, and the motives that drive it aren’t motives that are distinguished in a good light- they’re more so shallow motives.  I’ve decided that someday through my words, this boy- he’ll hear me, he won’t see me as someone who errs on occasion when making extenstions, and when that day comes, it’ll be worth it.  Until then, I suppose I’m remaining in the shadows, because vulnerability is something i neeed to stray away from.  My inked cursive on recycled paper is waiting to be read, to be shared, and to be understood by someone else.  I don’t just open my aspirations to just anyone though, that’s not something that I have interest in.  The person that I give a gift of a small glimpse into my inner thoughts- well they must prove to mean a lot to me.  And it’s been a while since I could actually say I have someone like that.  I’ve thought about just losing my journal, for the sole purpose of perhaps someone will find it, read it, relate to it, and find me.  Perhaps that person will have the right idea of me, perhaps they’ll know me like I know them. But that’s just idealism speaking.  I’m not idealistic in general, I mean sometimes I wish I were, but unfortunately, I’ve been blessed with being a pragmatist.  Something many wish for, yet I wish I had more of a soft, naive side.  It’s crazy to hear that, but the thing that the soft naive people have that I don’t is hope for a better world.  For world peace, for equality, for god, for happiness.  I find many of these to be ideas that are appealing, yet I just don’t believe them.  Belief has been a very difficult thing for me to grasp in the past few years.  Those who do believe, well, they are lucky, and I am jealous.  But I can’t help that, there’s no use of it.  With that being said, I find it to be rather difficult when it comes to admitting true feelings, to articulating them to people, because often times, if not always, I use my words like one would use paint.  Language is an art form, something so intricate and delicate, yet something so harsh and bold.  It’s not something I can actually put into words- and I take pride in my vocabulary.  Too bad I can’t explain something so simple.

i just want to break free of this abyss.

alive out of habit

I want to be recognized and appreciated.

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