| Why do I keep putting my hand on the burning stove? I feel like this metaphor is the metaphor of my life.
After this semester, my hand has become one giant blister. |
| |
| Over two months later, I'm sad to say my life hasn't changed that much. I mean, of course, things have happened, but the ultimate implications are the same:
1. I need to drink less.
2. I need to learn how to not act on every single impulse I have.
3. In general, I need to get my act together.
I really don't want to get into any particular details, because I have the right to not incriminate myself, thank you.
I had a dream last night that I had glass in my mouth. It wasn't cutting me, but I kept on spitting out glass for what seemed like forever.
This has been the semester of cynicism and nihilism. Thank god it's almost over. |
| |
| I was doing a writing exercise for my Intro to Literary & Cultural Studies class, and I wrote "sympathique" instead of "sympathetic." It's the first time I've accidentally used French instead of English. Strange. |
| |
| School's started. It's busy. I have to read a lot. I slept through my first class today. I had to turn in a short story yesterday. I started it Monday and I think you can tell. People in my classes are stupid, but some of them are smart, too.
I'm going to Boston for my twenty-first birthday. Megan and I are going to see Regina Spektor October 6th, then I will get drunk at midnight.
I'm going to San Francisco for New Year's. Megan and Rich are going. Some other people might come, too. It's kind of open invitation, but I reserve the right to say no.
I'm being passive-aggressive, because I have no other viable options. This is making me crazy. Nearly all of my friends are lame. I need new ones.
The end. |
| |
