When I was born I was so surprised I didn’t talk for a year and a half.
I've become a master at packing for long distance trips, having been rushed to and fro on a plane or a 10 hour car/train ride more times than a starlet shooting a new billion dollar movie press release. Interestingly enough, this usually means my luggage gets heavier, not lighter. The things I bring are considerably less useless of course, but nonetheless, baggage is baggage. It weighs you down.
My father and I drove to Georgia. That's really about it. Nothing else happened. That's usually how it goes with him.
You know there's something seriously lacking in your perception of your self-image when you're near to a drug induced high thinking: "Oh my god, oh my god, I think I might just get a C+! Yessssssssss!"
I've been back at University for a week now, struggling (to put it as lightly as possible) through summer school. I only have one class, as most of you know - statistics - but needless to say, I haven't been this stressed and psychologically destroyed since yogurt decided it could sell itself in a drinkable form. (Bear with me. I need some humor fuel to keep me from flinging myself out the window of the astronomy building and finally contributing some extra red to the ever popular pop culture of street art). Hell, it's even called elementary statistics. Which is really just another way of saying "An hour and twenty minutes of mind rape" to the point that you leave numb and tingly and five IQ points dumber. Statistics students certainly make the best psychological case studies, I swear.
I live every waking moment terrified. Of what, I don't even know any more. Too many things piling together and crushing my already calcium deficient shoulders. Too many things I suddenly realize I don't have the power or will in me to handle.
You know the point in your life when you realize that the utter, inevitable failure of whatever endeavor you're currently engaged in suddenly becomes so, so real and unavoidable? I'm there. It's the feeling you get when the windows are starting to crack, when your engine is on fire and you're suspended 40 parsecs away from planet earth in all that unforgiving, vast, nothingness and you know: it's only a matter of time.
Oh and happy fourth of July. Yesterday. That happened too, I remember.
My father and I drove to Georgia. That's really about it. Nothing else happened. That's usually how it goes with him.
You know there's something seriously lacking in your perception of your self-image when you're near to a drug induced high thinking: "Oh my god, oh my god, I think I might just get a C+! Yessssssssss!"
I've been back at University for a week now, struggling (to put it as lightly as possible) through summer school. I only have one class, as most of you know - statistics - but needless to say, I haven't been this stressed and psychologically destroyed since yogurt decided it could sell itself in a drinkable form. (Bear with me. I need some humor fuel to keep me from flinging myself out the window of the astronomy building and finally contributing some extra red to the ever popular pop culture of street art). Hell, it's even called elementary statistics. Which is really just another way of saying "An hour and twenty minutes of mind rape" to the point that you leave numb and tingly and five IQ points dumber. Statistics students certainly make the best psychological case studies, I swear.
I live every waking moment terrified. Of what, I don't even know any more. Too many things piling together and crushing my already calcium deficient shoulders. Too many things I suddenly realize I don't have the power or will in me to handle.
You know the point in your life when you realize that the utter, inevitable failure of whatever endeavor you're currently engaged in suddenly becomes so, so real and unavoidable? I'm there. It's the feeling you get when the windows are starting to crack, when your engine is on fire and you're suspended 40 parsecs away from planet earth in all that unforgiving, vast, nothingness and you know: it's only a matter of time.
Oh and happy fourth of July. Yesterday. That happened too, I remember.