jordanbleu

[jordanbleu]

all the emotions in one recording!!

[jordanbleu]

scared, jumpy... /... hysterical laughter

[jordanbleu]

sad, disappointed...

[jordanbleu]

anger, rage...

[jordanbleu]

happiness, excitement...

[jordanbleu]

Concept: Haunted Mansion

[jordanbleu]

Only 3 days left until I can go back to give blood! Finally - I’ve been waiting! 56 days go by so slowly. I wish it would come faster. It’s really the only thing I can look forward to now. Don’t think I’m strange! Of course I do it to help all those who need it. I’m AB negative blood. A rare type. If I can help, why shouldn’t I? It doesn’t hurt. Right?

[jordanbleu]

I never show my old artwork, but I feel a little differently today. Here’s a painting I did in art school. It’s one of my favorites. I feel like it speaks to me. I call it “Blurry Droplets.”

[jordanbleu]

I saw this dead squirrel on the way to work today. It looks like it’s been laying here dead for a while. I hope someone picks it up! Does anyone know someone I can call? The poor squirrel should die peacefully. No one seems to care.

[jordanbleu]

Countdown: 18 days

Art takes you somewhere. It takes you into another dimension, another realm, another planet, another world. A world that you can explore on your own. A world that is your own. It is kinda funky when you think about it. You can take something as simple as the color blue and make it into something more. But it is up to you, the artist, to create something more. And, of course, that “something more” doesn’t have to be that same interpretation for everyone. That’s what makes art so special - it’s the human mind that creates such rich and contrasting understanding.

Lucas, Danielle, they try to motivate me to start again. Lucas tells me I’m “perfect” and Danielle says, “she was miles ahead of everyone else in her class. Technique, commitment, thought-process miles ahead.” I don’t believe either of them. They both hope that one day I will start painting again. I know I’m choosing the wrong path. But they don’t understand me. No one will. Plus, I’m not good enough for it and I’ll never be. 

I miss art. I really do. And I wish I can start again, but I just can’t. And not only mentally, but physically. I’m too weak. I can’t draw anymore. I can’t even hold the pencil, it’s just so heavy in my hand. I don’t have anything left.

[jordanbleu]

This duck is me every day. I’m just so tired.

[jordanbleu]

In great need of a glass… right now.

[jordanbleu]

Countdown: 42 days

I think Lucas gets upset with me. I confuse him. I always leave in the middle of the night, and make him wake up alone. I never show him any of my artwork, even though he has asked numerous times. I avoid answering his questions when he asks how I’m doing. I barely talk to him about my life and he feels that we don’t have a good connection. He tries his best to fix our relationship. I know he does. And I appreciate that he cares so much. But there is nothing he can do. I’m just not ready. Everytime I think I am, I realize that it’s not what I want. It’s not who I am. It’s not what I deserve.

It’s not that I don’t like Lucas. I like him a lot. He’s sweet, caring, handsome, respectful, smart, and so much more. He wants me to be happy and always makes sure I’m okay. He’s the guy I’ve always dreamed of having a relationship with. But I just can’t have that right now. I have pretty much given up on my life; I barely show any effort in anything anymore because I’ve lost passion for everything I was once passionate about. And because of this, I don’t deserve to have a good relationship with him. He’s too good to me. I need to be alone. I don’t want to bring him down with me.

[jordanbleu]

I was wandering through my apartment one night and came across this open door, which led through an open room. Empty. Vacant. Barren. Dead. So much open space yet no use for it. I kinda like it though. It makes me feel some type of way.

[jordanbleu]

I don’t really know what these pictures mean or resemble… but they inspire me.

[jordanbleu]

Do you ever just want to go on a long walk into the unknown? I’ve been wanting to for such a long time. Hopefully soon I can find the energy to do so.

[jordanbleu]

Countdown: 56 days

Fifty-six days I wait. I guess you can say it’s something I look forward to. But it shouldn’t be. Imagine the most exciting thing to look forward to is watching your blood slowly drip out of your body. I mean, I literally look forward to deteriorating. Each blood donation I give, the weaker my body gets. Yeah, the blood is supposed to help those who need it. I’m helping so many people who need it during their operations and procedures, or because they don’t even have enough blood in their own body for them to survive. I know I’m helping people; I’ve helped so many. That’s the reason I give blood. Or at least that’s the reason I tell myself. And what I tell others.

But I know the real reason why I give blood. 

As the blood drains from my body and from my blood stream, I become weaker. Physically, mentally, emotionally. But at the same time it is a feeling of passion. And thrill. And excitement. But why and for what? What am I so excited about? Helping people? Yeah, sure I’m really happy I’m helping people, but what’s in it for me? Watching the blood pour out of my body. Feeling like I’m being emptied. My body is becoming weaker and weaker and my head never stops spinning. I would ask Lucas to grab me some crackers or pour me a glass of orange juice after he takes my blood so the dizziness can stop, but I don’t want this feeling to go away. I only get to delve deep into this feeling every 56 days.

It’s not that I enjoy this feeling. I don’t enjoy it. At all. But it’s better than the feeling I experience every single day. Every day I wait to feel useful again. I wait for happiness to come. I don’t think it ever will. So, I donate blood. Because it is the only thing I can do that has any repercussion on the world.

Drip, drip, drip. I stare at the blood as it leaves my veins and flows into the tubes that Lucas holds. I wait. It goes by slowly. Really slowly. Just like the time in between each blood donation. Fifty six long and slow days of just waiting. And waiting. Waiting to feel like I’m needed for something, to feel like I’m doing something, to feel one step closer to never feeling anything anymore.