I’m sitting in the library at school. Our theatre teacher decided not to show up so they shoved us into the library with the crabby old guy who I had during my lovely two days of ISS. It’s weird I’m sitting here alone, I’m supposed to be working on a 20 page paper I have due sometime in March, but I am listening to all the different loud conversations going on around me. I wonder if I sound so pointless when people listen to my conversation. I mean some of the things these people are talking about, are irrelevant to live. Makes me think, is everything we do, think about, talk about etc. relevant at all. I mean we are all going to die anyway. Kind of a sad out look as I re-read what I just said but I know its true. I’m going to try and explain in a better way… People always worry about the little things like what to wear, how to do their hair, what people think. We waist so much time on the little things when really in two days those things we worried about so much will not even be remembered. Even sometimes it seems as though the big things are forgotten within a matter of days, at the time they may have seemed big but now they seem minor.


There is one kid from work that always tells me I have to do things at the moment and stop worrying about long term effects. I have to follow what I want to do rather then worrying about the consequences and about other people. I can’t live my life doing things for other people and I have to realize that.


But here I sit saying this agreeing with every word that I am typing and I know that as soon as I close this window I am going to go back to that life, the life of worrying about stupid things the life of doing things to please others and the life of irrelevancy.


really does anyone make that big of a difference. I mean it’s depressing to think this but it’s the truth. We are all going to die, and be forgotten. Maybe not forgotten at first, but only by the ones who knew us and loved us. The ones who didn’t aren’t even effected by our deaths. Life goes on People just keep on living and soon the memory of us is forgotten, maybe to me remembered a few generations later at a family reunion where our picture is found and a few questions are asked about us. Again it’s depressing but hey that’s life right?


I know that this will probably never be answered and its probably a waist of time even writing it but if life is so irrelevant then what is the point of life. I mean all it is really when it comes down to it is pain. We live our daily routines by the clock. Minute by minute, scheduled and exactly the same as the day before. All of our accomplishments mean nothing because we eventually die anyway. What is the point of trying to do anything if in the end it amounts to nothing.

then || now

8:36 a.m. || 02.24.03