I stayed home from school again today, that makes 18 missed days for the year. I don’t think I’m allowed to miss any more or else the school will take us to court. I’ll probably still miss more anyway.
I have exams for my college courses this week, and I honestly could not possibly care less about my grades. I’m not going to college, anyway. I probably won’t even make it to my high school graduation.
Since the beginning of the semester, I’ve known about my final for my creative writing class. It’s a short story that has to be a minimum of 25 pages, double-spaced. This shouldn’t be an issue for me. I used to love writing. I still do. But I just can’t bring myself to sit down and write it. I have the whole story in my head, and I have some of it typed up, but I just don’t have the motivation to work on it. Every week, 2 or 3 people give the entire class their story, and they have a little less than a week to RTA them, and then we have a workshop on them. These workshops really help the authors, and I go on May 20th, so that means I have to turn in what I have so far on the 13th. I feel like such a disappointment because everyone else is working so hard and I only have about a paragraph done. I haven’t even looked at it since February. Damn, I’ve wanted to be an author since I could read, and this is all I’m capable of.
I’m gonna be honest and say it. I was planning on killing myself this weekend, but I keep finding stupid excuses not to. This fucking short story being one of them. It’s not even a good idea that I have, everyone else is so much better than me, but I still want to write it. I just don’t have the motivation or energy to do it, and I hate myself so much for this.
Whatever. This is it for now, I guess. I’ll probably sit here and think about my story instead of actually writing it, as always.
You can hit me up on tumblr, I’m the-lord-of-the-lamps there, too.