bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored, dammit!

Illness Day 3: Today was an eventful day, I woke up feeling miserable, sore with a throbbing throat....I spent the morning laying on mom and dad's bed because their waterbed is sooo much more comfortable than my spring mattress......watched a lot of television....drank my weight in liquids, ate hardly anything....slept, worked a bit on photography, was disturbed by phone calls-twice!, attempted to start my autobiography, watched more television, searched for the phone number to A's school because i couldn't get a hold of him last night (I think I copied the number wrong). My pattern of feeling good and feeling crappy continues. Hopefully I will wake up tomorrow well enough to go to school....or more likely I will wake up feeling miserable but drag myself out of bed because i'm about to tear out my hair due to boredum.

I love this, I have intellect and what-not, yet can I write my dammed autobiography no...no....of course not. Something so easy and full of bs yet I can't make my thoughts come together over the span of my pathetic 17 year life. I wish the assignment was to write a 50 word autobiography. I was born. I went to school. I made friends and lost them. I learned lessons. I became envolved with theatre. I began to hate my school/hometown. I began to like my school/hometown. I'm glad to be getting out of here. Because when you analyze it these things are all going to sound the same. We're all going to do the assignment and put forth no effort because the act itself is not creative, nor will the teacher who gives us our A's will analyze it creatively. Instead he'll skim it, make sure we talked about future shit and regrets and check the length. We will not be truthful, but oddly enough will we know if we're holding anything back?

I've seemed to have lumped my class as a group of people who do not know how to look beyond the surface of life. I was once like them, in many ways I still am. We're all so naive, believing in our successes and achievements...placing our faith in our grades and institutions like school and religion. Believing our future is all set because we have a plan, a place to go next year and just by having that we'll be ok. It is this blind hope, brought to us by our parents, mirrored from our friends, teachers, society, tradition...Yeah, we're scared and most of us liked high school (god, are there really people like that?) but we're ready to leave....ready to go to college and marry a rich man or make our own fortune and have a trophy wife, a mansion, a nice mercedes, and prestige. God, gag me.....dammed American dream.

American dream....that is so cliche. We are a society of people built on conformity and a sense of "family" in the community. We all want to live in the suburbs to give our kids a better life, yet with the conviences of the city. Instead we all end up with the cookie cutter lifestyle, being ridiculed if we don't join in....We've been studying the growth/emergence of the suburbs in pop culture and I've decided the suburbs are evil....they symbolize everything in society i find evil. but what makes it worse is its masked, painted a picture of a prize.

but I've found inspiration for my autobiography. I've decided to make it real and not hold anything back.