index | archives | notes Wednesday, Aug. 30, 2006 9:32 p.m. << [ In Trouble With the Gods ] >> I'm in a period of transition. From chipped black nail polish to clean, shiny nails with a clean, shiny topcoat. My hair is brushed and up in a bun, I'm confident and outgoing. I start conversations with random people. I can do that now. I didn't even know I could do that. It's like this burning process I'm learning about; what they do at the job I will hopefully have by the end of the week. Before everything is burned away, it's dried paints on plain white bisque. It's shoved into a kiln for god knows how many hours, and in the end it's the better for it. It's shiny and glossy and pretty and everyone is happy. This is all kiln now, melting my paint into pretty glass. I'm responsible and adultlike and taking charge of my future. I applied for a job and went to interviews all on my own. I did that. Me. I spent an hour and a half talking to the staff today, and that was me. That wasn't my parents or my friends standing behind the scenes egging me on, that was me. And at the same time, I'm not eighteen for another month. I'm still stealing, after promising Dear Daddy I wouldn't. So I guess that makes me a liar too. Stopped eating again. Stopped talking to old friends. I could be an island. A volcanic one. << | x | >> whatiscopyright.org