Okay bad wording but I don't know what better words to use. Basically, I'm being super duper mega creative mind-wise. I basically had a really awesome dream lately which is story-worthy, essentially GGaR fanfiction which in the dream was animated as a terrible cartoon show which was an In Name Only adaption yet still kept some vague elements which made me continue watching it in the dream.

​And today. Today I just got really inspired by this song.

I mean, the song is ridiculously awesome in general. And it's been in my playlist for basically as long as I've had a playlist. And it contains a story in of itself. (The video is really really freakin' cool.)

Yet beyond that I just got ideas to have a story which would basically extrapolate a post-apocalyptic setting reasonably close to what the lyrics would be. This is certainly nothing new. It's been done dozens of times before. Not to this song I imagine, but the setting I'd be creating would be almost a cliche.

...Except. I'd make it not be one, to have it be not thoroughly depressing, not be too dark, not have the expected conflict, and just be good characters trying to survive and not having drama so much as it is the bonding which I love to tell in my stories. People surviving together, facing tough decisions, maybe arguing, but ultimately striving forward without self-destructing.

I think I could do it.

But starting to write something like that would be...well.
Stupidly bipolar of me, for lack of better words. It'd be stupid given what I have on my plate. And it's something I feel is my bipolar disorder talking: I'm passionate about it now, but how about two weeks from now?

You get the idea.

So my class today requires me to bring tools.
Tools that I don't really own.
Now!
I am apparently a master of improvising.
Need a 12-inch stainless steel ruler? Well I don't have that but I do have an 18-inch one!
Need a pencil? Well I had one to spare which I was able to use.
Need an eraser? Well I don't have a good one but I have an old unused pencil which has an eraser on top that is a decent substitute.
Need paper? Well I can use printer paper and hope that's adequate.
Need a calculator? Well I'm hoping that a computer calculator is sufficient!
Need those triangle measurement things? Pray to god I either don't really need them or that I can borrow them!
Need calipers and a micrometer? Well I'm just screwed there if I can't borrow one. Especially since a cheap micrometer is like $20 which seems outrageously expensive.
Need yellow pen or pencil? Well, I found a broken yellow one which if someone has a pencil sharpener I can use I guess.
​Red/blue pen/pencils? Well I guess I can steal a couple.

...I'm still not going to do very well it would seem but I hope I can make do with what I've got because these are all things I did not plan on having yet as of today I now know I need to have.

I mean, I realize just how dangerous a thing that is to do (especially when the person in question obviously smokes pot both by attitude, appearance, smell, and them asking if you smoke weed), but it was pouring down rain and it wasn't really that far out of my way to do so, so I did so to be nice. They gave me a little bit of money for my trouble, which I figured would cover the gas, and that was it.

Still, that was an interesting thing I certainly don't do every day. I thought it worth mentioning. It was a little nerve-wrecking the entire time (I literally never drive people, ever), but it ultimately proved to not be a problem. It just felt like the right thing to do, honestly. Something nice, which didn't really do me any harm but helped someone else.

I mean.
Lots has happened.
Like. A lot a lot.
College has kept me rather busy, of course.
I need to do everything basically perfect to avoid seriously screwing things up--yet I have a tight time table to do stuff in, and an even smaller schedule for when I can receive instructor aid.

I do need to get in contact with some advisers listed to see if things like the triangle alliance club even exist anymore.
And I also need to go to bed fairly early, since I have class tomorrow morning as well.
And there's a whole bunch of stuff I'm not doing.
Ambitious projects I've laid out.
Thoughts I've had.
Dreams worth recording.
a bunch of stuff.

But right now my mind's just not. Well. Translating it well. Processing things. It's an overload of sorts. I just have so much that I don't have much at all. Blah. I'm sorry. I do want to say stuff. Say something. I really, really do. Like. I swear there's like a dozen things about my personal life I've wanted to blog about recently, but they're not forming coherently. By the time I try to think of one thought, it has shifted into another and I can't keep the cycling thoughts from going through so...

...I really just need to pull myself together here. I'm doing fine in real-life, albeit barely, but elsewhere not so much.

I have a lot to say, but I'm kinda too tired to say it.
Sorry.
Holiday takes a lot out of me.

Much family amusement, lots of stuff which warrants discussion, should talk about it though I probably won't because tomorrow is booked in terms of stuff I've got to do so I probably won't, unfortunately.

I MISSED A DAY.
I WAS DOING so FREAKIN GOOD.
AND I MISSED A DAY!

*sigh*

Well.
Easter's tomorrow, got some prep work for that.

And yesterday was family night. We watched Hellboy, for lack of better ideas. General consensus: not painful, not great. Today was a bit of a mini-family night as well, with a few episodes of Agents of Shield. But that's about it. Been rather busy with stuff. So...going to do stuff.

And right now, I am feeling all kinds of good.
Like. I'm just...incredibly happy. I feel like I can do this. I feel reasonably competent. I mean. I know I've still got a ton of work I need to do. And. Well. I definitely need to do something to actively maintain my skills, and what's important. I know that I need to be sharp. I know that with one slip, my grades get screwed. I know I basically have to be perfect to do as well as I need to--and I also need to do my work in such a way that I can both keep the skills this time, and also have something to show for it. (A portfolio.)

But I feel good. I feel like it's something I can do. I just...I feel like this is what I need to do, and that I can​ do it. I just feel confident, more powerful, more alive, and that's all kinds of fantastic to feel.

Oh how you get me going, panic mode...

Basically, right now, I really need a textbook.
Really, really need a textbook.
I theoretically own it already.
In theory.

It is somewhere in my room.

...The problem is.

...It is somewhere in my room!

The thing about my room is that however messy you think your room is mine is guaranteed ten times worse. Like. There's rotten food. Rotten candy. Laundry, clean, dusty, dirty. Sheets. Blankets. Sleeping bags. Crumbs. Cobwebs. Dust everywhere. Cobwebs everywhere. A solid layer of soot covering most things. Human hair. A solid pile of nail filings. Literally thousands upon thousands of papers of all shapes and sizes--some in binders, but most loose.

Old toys, some broken, some breaking, some falling apart, some which were mashed together, some which actually function in the way they were meant to. Bins, filled to the brim with stuff. My bed is 9/10ths stuff (and it's one of the biggest bed sizes available, mind you), leaving me a mere fraction to sleep on...and said fraction has the springs puncturing through now, having torn to shreds my favorite sheets and my favorite blanket.

Bins stacked under my bed. Bins on my bed. Bins all around the room, filled with stuff. And then there's the closet, the various drawers (some open, some broken), the various bookshelves...there used to be a clear path on the ground; it is not so clear anymore. Section by section has been claimed by stuff.

And this battlefield is what I need to search through in order to find that book.
If I took pictures, they would not do it justice. This is something you really just have to have the horror to live through in person to understand. Attempts to organize my stuff have been made. Attempts to categorize it have been made. Attempts to clean up have been made--but they all fell apart, some making it even worse than before.

I have a vague idea of where the me of before would store books like this...but I haven't had luck yet.

​I need to get sleep, but I need those books, because if I don't get that book I'm going to fail and that would not be fun.

Not by much, though. I'm gonna probably be full-panic-mode tomorrow again. I am in that area where I feel like I might be overextended, but might also be just overreacting to everything. The main thing I wanted to talk about today though is that I've kind-of got this desire to just write about...me. Rather. More like. The mes within me. The different aspects of me.

Like. Writing a comic, kind-of, just. With every character in it being an aspect of me, personified. And there are quite the number of various mes. I used to not be that aware of them. But I've had my awareness of them heightened. I can't exactly put names to them, with two exceptions. (The two male voices in my head I converse with on occasion, one named David and the other whose name varies but as of today is currently Ace.)

Like. I can't exactly go, "I'm Ranger", "That was Ranger", "I'm mastina", "that was mastina", or the like. And most of the mes identify to some extent just as...well, Bree. That is, if they identify by a name at all. (Some mes are just...well, me. They don't think of names, they just...exist, and are.)

So it's not something I realistically would make with it being accurate to reality. It'd be embellished. But the idea did come to me all the same.

I also feel like there was a non-crazy thing I could talk about, but whatever it was, I've since forgotten about it, so I suppose I get to be a crazy lady for a while longer. Basically, the me that I am right now is doing a decent job of living life, but I feel like it was someone else's life I inherited.

That makes little sense, I'm sure. I have the same memories I've always had, more or less. I've got the same skills, I think many of the same thoughts, I feel many of the same emotions, but I still feel like I'm not the one who has been driving most of my life, like it was someone else, someone a part of me but who isn't the current me that is thinking (and typing) this blog right now.

It's really confusing, my brain. I wish I had some kind of answer for what it is that I am, that I have in there. But any label I know of feels like if I used it, it'd be insulting to those who have that label legitimately. I'm just. Kinda...weird, I guess. I don't know what I am. That's not a bad thing, but it is a thing which makes it difficult to describe to others.

I'm a chaotic, disjointed mess. I have two books for the class I'm in tonight--but while I bought them already years ago...I can't find them. If yesterday I felt like an entirely different person, just try to imagine me figuring out what the me of five, six years ago did. My room was already a big mess. I tore it up even more so it looks like an even larger battlefield now.

I still couldn't find it. I tried. I really really did. But while they should be there...I can't find them. I've dug up books from ages ago. Like. There's stuff I had completely forgotten about. Stuff that really was basically a different me. But I had to think, "What would that person do all that time ago?" Not me. What would that person do. Because whoever it was that took that class...it sure wasn't me.

And I ended up late for my counseling appointment as a result--but, it turns out. He messed up; he had me down as meeting him next week. So it was a wasted trip. I went home to search again. Still nothing. And the time kept ticking away. Until I had none left. And I botched a response to my tae kwon do teacher. And my eggs for today while being the best cooked eggs my dad has ever made for me tasted really bad, to the point where I dared not eat them. (Like. Know rotten egg smell? It tasted like rotten eggs.)

So I am operating in a broken manner. Low energy, refilled by a small breakfast meal. And in class, panicking. I'm just. Having a hard time. I am leaving out a bunch of stuff, too. I am technically in class, supposed to be working. I...just. I just. Don't know how to.

Blah. I feel like the person who signed up for this class could've done this, but the person who is sitting at the keyboard trying to actually freakin manage doing the class is someone else.