Uneducated Thoughts : Not Quite Forgotten

I filmed a video today.
But I might not even upload it.
Nothing I say is interesting.
I live the life of a twelve-year-old,
with my parents and family.
There's nothing to do, nothing to say.
All is childish,
all is youth.
And it sucks.
-
I really hate this.
I know I shouldn't.
I know my age should be a good thing,
just something I have to deal with.
But, somehow, it becomes difficult.
I'm ahead of my peers in self-observance.
I pay attention to how I feel,
to what my life is,
and, in that, I am beyond them.
-
YACHT, Bobby Birdman, and Jeffrey Jerusalem dominate my playlists.
(Mental playlists, of course. In reality, I have to search for all songs individually)
As well as some Santigold, and a bit of Ratatat.
-
I realize that this might sound a bit differently than usually.
I'm still in my writer mood,
so this voice might not be entirely my own.
Characters might creep in at the corners.
-
I'm hoping that, relatively soon, I'll be able to work on a video I've been planning.
I don't want to give anything away,
but it might involve fake blood.
-
My mind felt like it went through a meat grinder today.
Splattered around the inside of my skull, it hung in shreds and modestly processed the world around it.
Accounting for much of my general tiredness, slowness, and general dissatisfaction.
For some reason, I get confused by feeling average.
When I'm not remarkably happy, sad, angry, or bored, it's strange, to me.
I can't pinpoint my emotions, can't categorize.
Some people consider organization a useful skill,
but sometimes it seems more like a bad habit.
-
Well, I suppose I'll just leave you with that.
Not much to say.
Hopefully, there'll be a video,
but no guarantees.
(It saddens me that I have to say that)






Bye.