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Thu Jun 15 00 / 3:38 PM

There's that little itchy sticky feeling again: hope. I think something I'm planning on might actually come through. It's hard not letting myself giggle over the possibilities, scream girlishly, shudder with big bursts of energy. I want to, I want to be happy over the what-if, but it's just not a good idea.

I'm sure, statistically, that I get just as much of the good stuff as everyone else. Still, I feel that I shouldn't get too wired in case it just doesn't happen. I won't be so disappointed that way ... well, I'm sure that's not true, but it sounds good.

I do this all the time. I get hopes, I have dreams, I make grand plans. Everybody does it, but most people share it. I don't. People who've known me for years complain that they don't know me, and surely this is the reason why. I don't tell people what I'm thinking or wanting, unless it is a sure now thing. The future is my hiding place. I'm never embarrassed, upset, disappointed, or lonely in the future.

That's probably one of the reasons James thinks my life is so perfect. I share none of my plans until they have proven successful, so it must look like I never lose. I'm changing that right now.

Are you ready?

I'm trying to buy a house. I can't do it on my own, so my father is co-signing for me. The first step is to get the mortage approved. After that, the next step is to secure the house I want. If I get this, it will solve everything. I will be moving out on my own, renting the extra rooms to other students. I will not be throwing money away on rent. I will be ahead of the game for the rest of my life. And I will have an absolutely gorgeous house that I get to decide how it will be renovated. If this falls through, I'll have to rent, pay more than I can really afford, and regret every month.

So for now I am restrained. Soon I hope to have reason to be otherwise.

My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.

</>

Lisa Higgs

.

*eyes ahead, more to follow*
.
latest archive about email links yearbook japan photoblog wish list	Thu Jun 15 00 / 3:38 PM There's that little itchy sticky feeling again: hope. I think something I'm planning on might actually come through. It's hard not letting myself giggle over the possibilities, scream girlishly, shudder with big bursts of energy. I want to, I want to be happy over the what-if, but it's just not a good idea. I'm sure, statistically, that I get just as much of the good stuff as everyone else. Still, I feel that I shouldn't get too wired in case it just doesn't happen. I won't be so disappointed that way ... well, I'm sure that's not true, but it sounds good. I do this all the time. I get hopes, I have dreams, I make grand plans. Everybody does it, but most people share it. I don't. People who've known me for years complain that they don't know me, and surely this is the reason why. I don't tell people what I'm thinking or wanting, unless it is a sure now thing. The future is my hiding place. I'm never embarrassed, upset, disappointed, or lonely in the future. That's probably one of the reasons James thinks my life is so perfect. I share none of my plans until they have proven successful, so it must look like I never lose. I'm changing that right now. Are you ready? I'm trying to buy a house. I can't do it on my own, so my father is co-signing for me. The first step is to get the mortage approved. After that, the next step is to secure the house I want. If I get this, it will solve everything. I will be moving out on my own, renting the extra rooms to other students. I will not be throwing money away on rent. I will be ahead of the game for the rest of my life. And I will have an absolutely gorgeous house that I get to decide how it will be renovated. If this falls through, I'll have to rent, pay more than I can really afford, and regret every month. So for now I am restrained. Soon I hope to have reason to be otherwise. My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.
	</>
Lisa Higgs
.