feeling the need to vent
i know i had intended to let this thing die a quiet, painless death, but i suppose everything deserves a short dying spasm and jerk. i just need to vent too much. i just had probably the worst birthday ever, except that really pretty sad one last year wherein the only person who remembered it was jenna (whom i love). i don't really know what i wanted, or hoped it would be. i endlessly find myself not even creating unreasonable expectations, but in hindsight applying expectations that were obviously never met. it was all anticlimactic, i suppose, but that was also to be expected. a day can't live up to expectations you don't even have. it's simply impossible. i guess what i wanted was to have a party. i haven't had a birthday party since seventh grade. and it was on a friday night too. is it too unreasonable to want to have a little fun on a friday night, not to mention one's birthday? i mean, this is not to be ungrateful for the really sweet things some people did (like the adorable cake from sarah and jenny) and the bigger, but equally nice cake from all the others. but seriously, who wouldn't trade those for a handle? i would. it's not like i'm an alcoholic. what have i drunk like five times at school? all my friends here are such squares. and then i went back to my room and dana let me drink some of her tequila, which was nice (though cheap and bad and mostly made me feel sad and sick (that was cool)) and then i met the rest back at the a capella show and no one even knew i was tipsy. the evening topped off when the blue lights sang july, july (which is of course the best decemberists song, but when i was excited about it everyone just kind of nodded and dismissed me condescendingly). and no one would have a dance party (not eighties or techno or anything). dear lord, it was just so hard coming back. break was so famous, i can't even believe how well everything worked out (except canoeing with alper, which failed grandly). and then back here. now i'm back here and here i'll stay. and the days go by too slowly and i never sleep and it snowed and now there is snow in april. and you know there are no flowers here? no gardens, or even just haphazard scattered flowers. and i don't understand because everyone else loves it so much. what am i doing wrong? i think i might just be the most negative person ever. i can't pull myself together, but i know i have to. i have papers and tests and praying to get into other schools. but i just don't know if i can make it to the other end. and here i am just ranting again. this is why i wanted to get rid of this journal. all this covert narcicism disgusts me. i disgust me. i want to go home. i miss the rain, and the hippies, and the green grass, and the hipster kids, and the music. dear lord, how i miss the music. life here is so empty and devoid of meaning. i'm not doing anything, creating anything, helping anyone. i'm just a leach on everything: the school, my parents, my so-called friends. i don't even think they like me. everything all around me just keeps getting darker and sadder and more pointless. but seriously, what is the point? what is the fucking point of colby college in waterville, maine full of fucking spoiled, preppy rich kids who've never had to work a day in their lives, never had to worry about anything or feel the responsibility sucking away their souls and everything they love. i don't think i can ever get outside of this. i'm going to be stuck here. there's nothing i can do. and i chose this. it was my choice and i chose this. i did this to me, there's no one to blame but myself. so i guess i will. stupid livejournal, letting me put this out in the world. i just wish i could get out of here. i think i'm drowning.