After many tears...

I found this on my computer when searching for any motivation for this speech...
I dread talking tomorrow...


Ambiguous Masterpiece

My family is a first grade art project. It is unclear to most what it is; how it works. At first glance you say, “How beautiful!” and under your breath you ask, “What exactly is it?” My mom is the pink construction paper, bright and full of ideas; my dad is the blue strip across the top. He is calm and level-headed, looking over everything and making sure it’s in its place. The eraser marks are my step dad. He’s the evidence that the artist was trying to make the piece better. Emily, my sister, is the paint splatters in the background. She is experimenting with color, trying to decide what it is she is going to paint with her life, and she’s standing off to the back waiting for someone to show her direction. The macaroni noodles that are glued to the page is my little brother, Quentin. It’s something different in the art; it provides a breath of fresh air. My step mom is the glitter speckled across the page. It adds a little bit of happy to the picture; everyone can identify with it. It catches your eye immediately and adds spunk to those around it. My brother Logan is the stick figures standing on the thin line of green at the bottom of the page. He seems pretty ordinary, but you have to hear his story before you understand him. My brother Adam is the magnet that sticks the scene to the refrigerator. He isn’t closely related to the other supplies, but he brings them all together at one time. And I’m the glue. The glue that holds her parents together; even after the construction paper is peeled apart; there is always the little bit of pink stuck to the blue paper and a little bit of blue on the pink paper. The glue that holds the glitter to the page, gets stuck to the eraser, is a part of the paint, holds the macaroni on the page, and the glue that longs to be closer to the magnet. Behind this mess of art which no one can understand lies a beautiful masterpiece.

Procrastinating.

It's pretty pathetic when each blog starts with, "So I haven't written in a while." Who is really reading anyways? Tonight, I'm trying to escape writing a 2-3 minute speech.(Couldn't be shorter, but my perfectionist attitude has to have the exact word I want in the exact place I think it should go.)

I miss writing, a lot. It helps me think. And it seems like every other day I have something new to think on, something new for Lindsey to over-analyze. Okay, so I'm being negative, sometimes it's easier. But definitely not healthier. The more negative you are the worse your mood gets.

So much life is happening right now. I want to quit the meaningless mundane tasks of the every day. What's with American culture today anyways? I suppose I'll expand on this more later. Right now I should really stop blogging and write my speech. Five hours of sleep... and it's slowly decreasing the longer I sit here. Ah, who needs it anyways?