Feeling Down

My mother thinks I’m depressed.

I think I’m in denial about being depressed.

I do feel down. I really do. It’s all school. If not for school, I’d be skipping around with flowers humming Kumbaya. I’m afraid of not doing well on all the unit and final exams that begin tomorrow and end in two and a half weeks. If I think about math long enough, I start to cry, which sounds stupid for so many reasons. But I’m so stressed that I can’t help it. I want to blame it on my teachers but I don’t think I can this time. It’s true that most of them have failed horribly to motivate me at all this semester, but that’s my problem and not theirs. I should be able to motivate myself for my own good.

Moving off that topic…

I’m really excited about art next year, and this summer too. I want to try and do commissions, even if it’s for tiny amounts of money. And I want to do a lot of paintings this summer. Next year I want to paint a phoenix or another type of animal made of fire, and I want to do some kind of Bible-related art. Something from Revelations, maybe!

And then there are day camps which I can’t wait until! I love those kids! And I can’t wait until I go to Quebec to see my cousins.

So just as you could draw a line through this journal entry, you’ll be able to draw a line through my life between June twenty-fourth and June twenty-fifth. As Strong Bad might put it, up until June twenty-fourth is all crapfullness, and after that is all awesomeness.

97, 200 more seconds of crap— uh… school.