(no subject)
So I find myself back over in the basic ass world of livejournal. I just had a pang of guilt for using my first sentence to shit on LJ, which admittedly has gotten me through some shit back in the day. I'm here cause I have shit floating around in my head and it bothers me.
Today I woke up at 8 at Gab's. I shouldn't have gone there but I wanted to see her and I wanted to fuck and I wanted to stop worrying so I went. I walked home, made a spinach omellete and coffee. Smoked. Jerked off. Showered. Procrastinated. Smoked. Did my spanish homework, went to class 4:30-7:15. Hablé mucho en español. Got home, went shopping with Ben, who I wasn't in the mood for. Then his car wouldn't start in the parking lot. Called Amanda for a ride home, abandoned Ben. Made burritos (turkey burger, feta, spinach). Drank tequila. And here I am. I have to go to Brownstein's office hours at 9:50 tomorrow. I have to be awake and alert and impressive and knowledgeable. I have to have a thesis. I have to have a thesis. I have to have a thesis.
I am not the person who I want to be right now. It's a shame that the looking back that goes with the last semester of school comes with a bucket of regret. A five gallon bucket with a wire handle that cuts into your palm when you drag it to class every day. I wish I had cared more, to be honest. I wish that I had traded every night where I made a fucking fool of myself or woke up coughing, to crusted over eyelashes and a churning stomach for reading, learning, writing, creating. Everything has been giving me anxiety lately.
I smoke too much, nicotine and weed, I drink too much, coffee and alcohol. I don't eat enough, or right. My exercise thus far this semester has been a joke. I spend too much money, I have no job, I don't stand up for myself, my heart hurts for Madrid, I'm uncomfortably in love, and my GODDAMN grandma died.
I have never really thought of myself as an adult until this year. 2013.
2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013
Today I woke up at 8 at Gab's. I shouldn't have gone there but I wanted to see her and I wanted to fuck and I wanted to stop worrying so I went. I walked home, made a spinach omellete and coffee. Smoked. Jerked off. Showered. Procrastinated. Smoked. Did my spanish homework, went to class 4:30-7:15. Hablé mucho en español. Got home, went shopping with Ben, who I wasn't in the mood for. Then his car wouldn't start in the parking lot. Called Amanda for a ride home, abandoned Ben. Made burritos (turkey burger, feta, spinach). Drank tequila. And here I am. I have to go to Brownstein's office hours at 9:50 tomorrow. I have to be awake and alert and impressive and knowledgeable. I have to have a thesis. I have to have a thesis. I have to have a thesis.
I am not the person who I want to be right now. It's a shame that the looking back that goes with the last semester of school comes with a bucket of regret. A five gallon bucket with a wire handle that cuts into your palm when you drag it to class every day. I wish I had cared more, to be honest. I wish that I had traded every night where I made a fucking fool of myself or woke up coughing, to crusted over eyelashes and a churning stomach for reading, learning, writing, creating. Everything has been giving me anxiety lately.
I smoke too much, nicotine and weed, I drink too much, coffee and alcohol. I don't eat enough, or right. My exercise thus far this semester has been a joke. I spend too much money, I have no job, I don't stand up for myself, my heart hurts for Madrid, I'm uncomfortably in love, and my GODDAMN grandma died.
I have never really thought of myself as an adult until this year. 2013.
2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013 2013