I wish I were you
What I need is a new life. Luckily, that is on the agenda for the 2004/2005 school year. I can't wait. No, really. I can't. I'm still waiting for the happy-go-lucky-it's-senior-year-spring-waHOOOOOOOO to start. I don't think it's going to. This feels exactly like the Wasteland-sustained spring of 10th grade, only lonelier and possibly (counterintuitlivly, perhaps) this time through I'm less sad. Like then, though, I'm reading like an alcoholic.
Spring break '04 Highlights include A2, a shady border crossing, and 1 pretty dress.
I keep writing things and then deleting them either because I am superstitious or because I am boring. Livejournal, I think, is not for me. Emotions are too revealing and agendas/to do lists too boring and so what do I say? Except I do not think it is possible for me to survive the next month (till the AP, so less) of chemistry. But we all knew that.
I was feeling refreshed but now, thinking about back to school, I'm unbearably tired again. Thinking of unbearable, I'm in the mood for some Kundera, although I know it's pretentious and indulgent and a billion other things I'm generally critical of. Also to read: Lahari, Coetzee, Mda, the Julius essay, Woolf essays, plus the requisite Joyce. I really would like a comp lit major. Too bad I have a negative gift for languages. Because I think (at UCLA and Yale...we'll see about Swat, but I assume) you need fluency in not one but two languages + English. I don't think, honestly, that I can do that. Maybe English with a focus in post-colonial lit?
Spring break '04 Highlights include A2, a shady border crossing, and 1 pretty dress.
I keep writing things and then deleting them either because I am superstitious or because I am boring. Livejournal, I think, is not for me. Emotions are too revealing and agendas/to do lists too boring and so what do I say? Except I do not think it is possible for me to survive the next month (till the AP, so less) of chemistry. But we all knew that.
I was feeling refreshed but now, thinking about back to school, I'm unbearably tired again. Thinking of unbearable, I'm in the mood for some Kundera, although I know it's pretentious and indulgent and a billion other things I'm generally critical of. Also to read: Lahari, Coetzee, Mda, the Julius essay, Woolf essays, plus the requisite Joyce. I really would like a comp lit major. Too bad I have a negative gift for languages. Because I think (at UCLA and Yale...we'll see about Swat, but I assume) you need fluency in not one but two languages + English. I don't think, honestly, that I can do that. Maybe English with a focus in post-colonial lit?