Mounting Pressure;

People expect entirely too much from me.

I feel like I constantly put in all the effort I can physically handle, yet I reap no reward whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, I am not looking for compliments or a pat on the back, but I just feel less and less appreciated, which leads me to wonder why I even bother doing anything at all. My biggest defeat might be the fact that I am a perfectionist, and I simply cannot leave it up to others to make decisions that reflect poorly on me, so I sit in quiet anguish and continue to do everything myself with little assistance from others. I'm not saying I don't receive any help at all, but in the grand scheme of things, people come up with ideas that cannot be executed in the slightest by three or four people and leave it at that: a mess for someone, me, to clean up. I wish people cared. Or maybe I wish I didn't care in the first place. I don't know what it is like to sit back, relax, and let others plan everything, but I'm sure every once in a while, it would be a nice change. I'm getting sick, and it is because I haven't slept over three hours in the past four days. I'm sneezing every five seconds, my throat is sore, and I have a constant headache, which is only worsened by the self-proclaimed braniacs in our school. It is non-stop commotion from school assignments, writing articles, memorizing music and lines and facts for tests, not to mention understanding those memorized facts in order to apply them. I want to do my best, I really do, but that seems so far from being accomplished right now.

I want to go back to the ocean on my father's boat. I want to rest beneath the sun, letting the salty atmosphere consume me, while the waves disturb the boat from its resting position because it is plain and simple comfort. I want to hear the water spash against bows and watch the dolphins jump out of the water because it reminds me that life is worth every moment we take forgranted. Being carefree at times is a necessary and uncompromising part of life, and it is seriously lacking in mine. I want everything to be alright even when it seems like it never can be again; I want to be alone for a while.

Undecided.

I have lost all motivation.
The simplest task seems incredibly overwhelming, and I am making mistakes in areas that should be bullet-proof. I am not prone to perfection by any means, but nothing has ever seemed to continuously feel this warped or overrated. Perhaps I am taking on more than I can handle; we all like to think ourselves invincible when it comes to activities we enjoy, thus participating in more than it is physically possible to actually attend. Can you really have a true passion for that many things? Certain organizations or ideas will inevitably take control over your time, leaving the minuscule and secondary options to perish in the depths on one's mind. I haven't found my true niche yet, and I feel as though I should have something by now; 17 years of searching should have yielded a little more than a few mediocre talents or past times here and there. I want to know what I am meant to do and continue doing it for the rest of my life. I want to know where I stand in the world, even if I am a simple speck among millions, as weightless and insignificant as they come. I want to drive on the open road for as long as it takes for some powerful epiphany to strike at any given moment, leaving me with some serene sense of being. I want closure.
I know I am asking too much, but some answers would be ideal.

Postsecret.

Things were simple once.

Lately, people are so wrapped up in themselves and superfluous assignments that none of them are taking the time to stop and truly comprehend what is becoming of the world, and of us. Danger signs are flashing in every direction, and I feel like I am the only one who is noticing...or maybe I am the only one who cares.

At any rate, This year has proven to be the most hectic, but that will probably yeild taking the title of the best as well. I'm sure they go hand in hand in this case.

I really want to start painting. It seems extremely soothing, and that is exactly what I need.

Wishful Thinking

"If you can see the light at daybreak,

you don't care if you die at dusk.

It's so many people who never see the light at all."

Elizabeth is leaving tonight. I'm not quite sure how I feel about it. God knows I'll miss her more than life itself, and it's going to get harder each day. But I still have the times we've shared together for the past 2 and a half years. It seems so overwhelmingly trite, but all we have are memories; it is all we know.

She is my inspiration to do well. In some senses, she has been my muse. Mostly, she has been my mentor, and I can't say that enough. I love her with everything I am capable of, and letting her go is something I don't feel I am ready for, even though she is. She is ready for life to lead her out into the horizon, and she is equiped with all of the necessities. I just wish I could say the same; I hope some day I can.