No milk today
Last night Morris house was quite the hoppin' place...it seemed like nearly everyone in the house either had some sort of a shindig or a get together to go to some sort of a shindig ::laughs:: It was kind of amusing. I don't remember Morris ever being quite so popular last semester.
After everyone had basically left, though, it got very quiet again.
I seemed to fall into my own trap of nervous breakdowns again, much to my chagrin, because the sad thing is is that no one can help me and that I have to help myself. I guess that's not the sad thing...the sad thing is that I don't help myself, and I feel disgusting just wallowing in self-hate. I had some really horrible mental images come to mind, and wrote a bit of a story during a walk...but I think it's probably best that I don't share, because it was really all melodrama based.
I've been thinking a lot about the weirdness of online journals lately...because what's the point? Initially I'd gottne it because I was still talking to Jess more frequently and she'd recommended that I got one, and her's was friends only. And I write in here, and censor myself, and wonder if this really is a journal if I'm cutting things out. I have to becareful because other people read this, and I don't want to say anything too mean that I'm going to regret and in effect get people angry with me. Something that I've already done a royal job at. So are these really journals? Or is mine really a journal?
I feel like it's getting boring because I slip into that dull monotonous trap of what happened during the day...I went to blahblahblah, I saw blahblahblah, and we talked about blah. And I suppose journals aren't necessarily supposed to be interesting, but I do feel that they're supposed to capture a person, and what I do during a day, does not say who I am. It says what I do (duh)).
So I've been considering putting an end to this, though I'm not sure I will because I love quizzes and surveys too much in my duller hours of the day...But I really do feel that I should start a written journal.
The previous issue with that was that my Mom had told me that if she had found it, she would read it. Well...she's not at college with me.
After everyone had basically left, though, it got very quiet again.
I seemed to fall into my own trap of nervous breakdowns again, much to my chagrin, because the sad thing is is that no one can help me and that I have to help myself. I guess that's not the sad thing...the sad thing is that I don't help myself, and I feel disgusting just wallowing in self-hate. I had some really horrible mental images come to mind, and wrote a bit of a story during a walk...but I think it's probably best that I don't share, because it was really all melodrama based.
I've been thinking a lot about the weirdness of online journals lately...because what's the point? Initially I'd gottne it because I was still talking to Jess more frequently and she'd recommended that I got one, and her's was friends only. And I write in here, and censor myself, and wonder if this really is a journal if I'm cutting things out. I have to becareful because other people read this, and I don't want to say anything too mean that I'm going to regret and in effect get people angry with me. Something that I've already done a royal job at. So are these really journals? Or is mine really a journal?
I feel like it's getting boring because I slip into that dull monotonous trap of what happened during the day...I went to blahblahblah, I saw blahblahblah, and we talked about blah. And I suppose journals aren't necessarily supposed to be interesting, but I do feel that they're supposed to capture a person, and what I do during a day, does not say who I am. It says what I do (duh)).
So I've been considering putting an end to this, though I'm not sure I will because I love quizzes and surveys too much in my duller hours of the day...But I really do feel that I should start a written journal.
The previous issue with that was that my Mom had told me that if she had found it, she would read it. Well...she's not at college with me.