:: Oh, Look, A Tumbleweed ::

:: Friday, October 17, 2003 ::

So...with one third of the play done...it's nice. I don't know. Since rehearsals started, I've just been driven into this pit of depression and just...not really myself. Today was the first day I felt kind of happy for no reason whatsoever, and I like that feeling. Ever since the whole Jesse/Nick thing started up, I've just been getting very irritable, very impatient, very...hmm...depressed. Of course, school on a whole has made me feel the same way. Pre-Cal and Physics are frustrating me to no end that I can't understand what to do with a simple problem. How I can understand everything on a Pre-Cal test and still fail it. Physics is the same way. And with Macbeth rehearsals going on, and with stuff being revealed to me from my friends, I've just been miserable for the last three weeks or so.

So...monday...at about 8:45...it all ends. I never have to deal with this show again. I never have to deal with Delaney directing Shakespeare again. I never have to deal with the Nick/Jesse issue. It's been resolved, it's been discussed, it's over. GET OVER IT.

My concentration needs to be on schoolwork now. That play ate me alive and just about everyone else and I'd like to kill Shakespeare for writing it because it meant eventually I'd have to take part in it...I still don't know why I've been so miserable lately. Well, I kinda know, but that's only a small factor.

I really miss Mrs. Monjimbo. I've talked to her once this school year. Not even Ayana could restore that happy part of me. I miss the ease of tenth grade classes. And I really want things to slow down. Where has time gone? First quarter ends on wednesday...and then only three quarters left. It's insane.

Another sighing time...*sigh*...I should be happy the show is finally coming to a much needed end. But thinking about that is depressing me more. Ahhh....it's a never ending cycle.

I really just want to...I don't know what I want. I don't know what needs to happen to me in order to make me kind of myself again. Maybe straight A's on this report card? I'd love it, but it wouldn't work. I don't know. I feel like something is missing from my life and I'm not sure what. This may or may not have anything to do with the fact I listened to that tape I have of my grandfather's voice last night and sobbed. I need resolution over that subject, but the sad truth is that the only person I can get that resolution from is my grandfather. And that's not going to happen. So, until then, I can move on, which I'd love to, but I've been trying to for a long time now. It may have to do with the fact I haven't seen my mom's side of the family since he died. Not saying that's a bad thing since I don't particulary like all of them...

I could write pages on my grandfather. Perhaps another day, another time. When I feel like divulging information about that subject to you people. His voice...on tape...it's just...very...comforting. Very soothing. Very sadness inducing, hence I was crying last night. Very deep. Imagine a baritone voice. Now imagine a deeper one. THAT'S his voice. It's unmistakable. You just know what it is. And he may have been gruff, but to see him act like a child with my three year old cousin at family gatherings was one of the sweetest things I have ever seen. And to get pictures recently developed of him that were taken the last Christmas before he died kind of forced that knife a little deeper. I wasn't even that close with him, yet I have never been so distraught over a death in my family for so long. It's past six months and I can't get over it. Thinking about him kills any joy I had at that time instantly. I mean...Theo's dad died last year, and he's over it. Yet here I am, pouring out this entry on how I miss my grandfather so much even when his last words about me were, verbatim, "I wish we were closer". That is what makes it really hurt is that I really never was close with my grandfather. I didn't worship Ann Coulter. I wasn't somebody who would come help him in the yard. I was just kind of there...as a relative. The only time he ever joked with me was also that Christmas when he joked about a pain in his arm when he moved it, and so I said don't move it that way and we laughed. I had never seen him laugh before, and that was surprising. So maybe it's the fact that my last image of my grandfather is him being his most silly, the most immature I had ever seen him. And maybe I wish I had seen more of this side. Maybe I wish I had helped him with things...assembling this train he got because he loved trains. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's because I know my mom's side of the family is slowling spliting apart because they have no reason to spend time with each other because my mom's brothers and sister can't stand each other.

I realized I just typed out all that stuff about my grandfather when I swore I wouldn't.

Fuck.

I miss him. So much. And I don't know why. I don't know why ten seconds of nothing but his voice answering some questions on World War II caused me to break down. Everytime I've listened to that tape I break down.

Something has to give...soon. Thankfully, Macbeth ends Monday. Maybe then I can breathe a little more easily and just be a little more...like the person I was last year, because the person I am this year annoys me.

I feel the need to start screaming obscenities at the top of my lungs, but as my family is here, I can't really do that

:: Nick Friday, October 17, 2003 [+] ::