O.K. So I just submitted two of my original songs as deviations. And I am glad I did. It makes me feel accomplished. Somehow, knowing that someone else can see what I've done, examine it, critique it and most importantly acknowledge it, whether as a piece of art or pile of shit, is comforting. Its existence is being validated. That's nice. In the process of typing and submitting my creative utterances into the humming box black hole of fiber optic connections, I have become inspired, motivated, willed to write.

In the process of my photographic adventure with Andrew in the depths (which are shallow) of this wonderful town I have become pushed to take, make, create more photos. I enjoy it to the nth degree. It's soothing and relaxing. Sometimes it can require endurance or be bitterly cold and forces you to recall your tree-climbing skills, but it's worth it. Providing your pictures turn out.

I'd like to try and paint or draw. I have no natural ability to do such things. So I think it's about time I create such talent. And currently, I am motivated to do so. It won't last long, so I must be off. I want these last lines to rhyme, so, OH, pardon me . . .
*cough*

I just felt it necessary to fill out the mood, what I'm listening to, watching, etc. because of the sheer randomness of what I am doing at the moment. Sorry this isn't a detailed entry. I had an impulse, if you will, that I need to release a little negative energy, regarding the rather hectic nature of my life. Let's take today, Wednesday, as an example: I begin with a 6 o'clock waking, proceeded by school (Social 30 and Chemistry 30). At lunch I had vocal practice for the rock band I am in. Then to English Literature AP, which in itself is draining because it is beyond the realm of the utterly fantastic. And then comes my favourite part of the day, my 3 o'clock dentist appointment (that was sarcasm in case you didn't pick it up), which resulted in 5 hours of a face very similar to that of Jean Cretien's, I'm afraid. 6 pm through to 6:45 = voice lessons. Then I rush to Ignite theatre school for three hours, which actually starts at 6:30, so I'm late. I am now at home, enjoying a London Fog and a grilled cheese sandwich. It seems like the day should be over, prep for bed, hop in, and let my rather unusual dreams sweep me away from the formidable day I've had. Not so. I will now finish a 6 - 8 page research paper, which luckily I have almost 2 pages worth already, on Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia. However, despite this crazy life (those last three words remind me of a Michael Buble song - could be the soundtrack of my life?), I am content. I know that after tonight, although I still have much to do, I will have some time to regroup and reflect on how much I've accomplished. So 'tis a happy ending.