I am so good at accomplishing nothing
Fuck Appleton, fuck break, fuck not seeing anyone or doing anything and even failing to accomplish the very simple goals I set for myself.
Car rides make me think of girls, girls I like. Why? I have no fucking clue, just moving... either away from things or towards things (both actually), it just triggers ridiculous thoughts. Monday was good though, coloring dinosaurs and reading the Economist and actually leaving my dorm for reasons unrelated to academics or saunas. My computer has nowhere near enough RAM. I am disjointed as fuck today, adjusting to five days of nothing and then back to the nothing I'm familiar with again. Spring break Appleton, the only sand is on the roads. All I feel like doing is reading and getting my laundry done without having to pay for it.
I wish that today could turn into something exciting, like a Dirtbombs concert or Malt Monday (pre-this semester). I wish that I could write coherently about all the shit I observe and how so much of it doesn't make any logical sense, including my deeply held respect for logic. I wish I could pull my head out of my ass long enough to say something that merits reading.
I think this is why I went back to paper journals. This shit is stupid. The scar above my eye is looking pretty great though. Maybe I should go find a job for the summer.
Car rides make me think of girls, girls I like. Why? I have no fucking clue, just moving... either away from things or towards things (both actually), it just triggers ridiculous thoughts. Monday was good though, coloring dinosaurs and reading the Economist and actually leaving my dorm for reasons unrelated to academics or saunas. My computer has nowhere near enough RAM. I am disjointed as fuck today, adjusting to five days of nothing and then back to the nothing I'm familiar with again. Spring break Appleton, the only sand is on the roads. All I feel like doing is reading and getting my laundry done without having to pay for it.
I wish that today could turn into something exciting, like a Dirtbombs concert or Malt Monday (pre-this semester). I wish that I could write coherently about all the shit I observe and how so much of it doesn't make any logical sense, including my deeply held respect for logic. I wish I could pull my head out of my ass long enough to say something that merits reading.
I think this is why I went back to paper journals. This shit is stupid. The scar above my eye is looking pretty great though. Maybe I should go find a job for the summer.