Fierce Melancholy.

I was so close. So close to my life being what it was in Tucson, so close to feeling integrated, a part of things, where the rollercoaster is good again because it goes up,rather than further and further into the abyss.

In five days I turn 33.

Ethics class was cool today actually, even if I did get rabidly opinionated.

I got up and walked through the unopened door. I could tell he was facing me as I breezed past. I pushed it a little too hard. It didn't slam or anything,but...

ugh...and...just let me talk for myself...or NOT if I so choose...

And that clown story...

Im not cute. I'm not neurotic.

Still, this is the truth.

I dreamed I had two books, one good and one evil.

It drove me nuts at that party...

I feel like a fake for losing my enthusiasm for clinical...

And if I ran away, what then?

I would do anything for him...except give him more ammunition to hurt me with.

I mean...is there a good way to take that?

I'm resisting the urge to blow off Sensation and Perception in lieu of drinking.

So birthdays predict years. This is gonna suck.

It's perenially a week until I start doing stuff.

So I'm finishing my clove when I see Smug Frat Boy (tm).

"I'll start you on the rats next week" my ass.

I don't believe in alien abduction but it's interesting nonetheless.

Woah, Pretentious Girl spells her name with a "K". Why does that not surprise me?

I was very comfortable with the rats.

Oh yeah so Pretentious Girl spells her name with a "K".

Watching "May". Very disturbing.

Kierkegaard in class. My Man.

That was a lifetime ago. Sometimes it feels so close I can almost touch it.

"Amy MAD! Amy SMASH!

Does this even need description? Stunningly accurate.

I need a drink

Went into that quiet little courtyard behind Old Main.

I explained that it had been mostly principle...

...only to get really irritated when he'd call for two weeks straight leaving poetry on my voicemail.

There's something else that creeped me out but I can't quite place what it is.

Oh man, not only is she fawning and sycophantic but she's a disco obsessed freak.

I "took it to the next level" as per his request and he accomodated me.

I don't need the absurdity.

One week of classes left.

But the fact is, all I can do is keep plodding away.

There was a time when I wouldn't even patronize a Starbucks and suddenly it was a metaphor for how much I'm settling...

I am spoiling for a fight.

I feel like Chris Isaak in "Fire Walk With Me" surrounded by surliness and guffaws and patent refusal to do just about anything.

Sitting outside the science building on a bench. I have a few minutes to kill.

There's a big bug in here. I can't tell if it's a bee.

But I'll probably do none of these things.

Later. Sangria at Agave. I feel pangs of regret that name deleted's class is ending.

Shaking. Pretty Bad.

There's not even any rhyme or reason...

I "fell in love" with Heraclitus...

Well, I'm taking two more Philosophy classes.

I still find it hard not to be nervous...not to have my hands and voice shake.

I didn't bother to mention that it was Monday,heh.

I got an A+ on my parasuicide paper.

I need to be careful.

...and I traded my chem class for name deleted's Epistemology class.

Unless I fall in love with Critique of Pure Reason between now and July.

It's been like that ever since the semester started...

Please start cooking my order.

Sometimes I feel like Bulldog from Frasier "This is total BS! Oh, wait, never mind--"

although I did get to explain Chaos Magick to him which was...interesting.

It's a beautiful day out.

It's bittersweet.

I was feeling great after this week. Like I used to. And then that dipshit name deleted basically attacked me for being myself.

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