what are we waiting for?
love or the apocalypse.

ughhhhhhhhhhh.
college essays, how i loathe thee.

this journal is temporarily suspended. and/or privatized, and/or privatized-for-me-only, and/or Dead.

i'm a fucking idiot. accept that as reasoning.

ohhhhhhh god.

what do i want?

four points:

• last night, i bought midnight's children and the moor's last sigh and mcsweeney's enchanted chamber of astonishing stories and two opera compilations
• i've taken to escaping classes and going to the music practice room to play the piano.
• i made brownies, alex-style.
• i'm ti-erd.

it's like the Plan ( Read more... )

harry potter!
new clothes (shoppingwithmymotherisz-lame)!
minestrone soup!

ohhhhhhhhmy.

i want to be less sleepy
maybe sleep is the solution.

it is 3 am and i am Not Tired.
this is weird and i don't know what's going on...i don't think i like it.

back from new york.
i think i'm autistic.
i wouldn't mind hiking the haute route through the alps. really.
my list has Nineteen Items.
3 of 19 FINISHED.

use this:

vagitus (vuh-JI-tuhs) noun: The cry of a newborn.
[From Latin vagire (to wail).]

I AM 17
I WASN'T BEFORE
BUT NOW I AM.

and That, my friends, is That.

instead of footballgaming (LAME...i mean, i shan't begrudge 98% of my high school, and many of You, such good, clean fun. but i am Not a footballgamer) i watched the first Some of angels in america and am currently in a bridge-jumping mood.

Fuck. This.