Sunday, May 10, 2015

3/21/15





3/21/15
          I got in to Boston University. J I put all my eggs in one basket three years ago and my goal came through. I am in disbelief. My career and plans to be with Eric permanently are really taking off. <3

          As for life now, I can’t wait for the days to go by. I just want to be home or with Eric, not in Florida. *Home is where ever we are if there is love there, too. Maybe there is just not enough love here. I feel like in the back of my mind I knew this would be the case, but you don’t always act on the thought in the back of your mind. Ultimately I am glad I came out here to discover my independence and get clarity on where I want my life to be and go from here. I just wish I was happier. I never expected to be so unhappy in the “happiest place on earth.” I guess it has to be BS if you have to have it as your tagline. I should take more of my own advice and listen to myself more. My 12-year-old self tends to be the smartest and the most annoyed right now. Disappointment is not the right word, but annoyed definitely is. This year, I am going to make it to Myrtle Beach, Tennessee, and whatever the heck else whether I am freakin’ broke or not! I am going to make it as an artist as well. How? Why? Because I have always made it as an artist. That’s how and that’s why. If nothing else, I am just pissed off enough this time to actually do it.

          I just realized that I actually started this book in August. I feel like I started it in June or something, right at the very beginning of summer. This journal, like my last, started on a sad, sour note. I ripped up my last journal and threw it out. It was all about crying, moving on from childhood, and growing stronger. It sounds very poetic when it is put that way though. I don’t want to have to read those feelings though. I want to remember them for as candid as they were. Even now, I don’t remember word-for-word what was written on the pages, but I remember exactly how it felt to write those things down. I remember sitting in the living room and suffering and writing. It was the best therapy. Like any therapy though, you don’t need to return to the therapy room years later to remember how you felt. That part is natural. I want to remember how I got stronger, not read about it.

          I don’t feel like this journal is filled with such pain. This book feels a lot freer. (more free?) It makes me happier.


          Shortly after that journal came my best written piece, “A Book About You,” which will be read and made into a movie one day. I genuinely love that book with all my heart. I shall read it this summer and finalize it. It doesn’t fit any other time.

You know, I miss the old cats. I just read a past entry on being home alone and that part of it does help keep you going - aka taking care of old cats. I miss so many things at this point in my life. I miss Grandma. I miss Violet. I miss Gooba, of course. I miss Cookie and her constant sweetness. She reminds me of how one should always be kind and patient. She is a fabulous angel, I know it. I want to do some illustrations of the kitties. they deserve it more than anyone, animal-wise anyway. Grandma has been with me this whole time, I know it. At lunch today, a butterfly kept me company, fluttering around my feet. I think it was her.

          I am happy that music is so therapeutic. I am pretty sure I would have gone home instantly without music. Thankfully I was able to leave this crap job early today. Tonight I hope to pursue granny life. Goofing on my computer, recording, crocheting, and a movie sounds totally legit. I am trying to get some Easter crafts underway.  I love making things for Easter. It makes me happy. I will have to bug Eric tonight too. He is such a doll.
~Bethany

(Writer’s Note: This entire entry was written in the Character Base of Disney’s Animal Kingdom. I was pulled there as a spare against my will one Saturday. Clearly, I sat around for most of it.)

*”Home is where ever we are if there’s love there, too” are lyrics from one of my favorite Jack Johnson songs, “Home.”


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