(no subject)
It makes me sort of sad how infrequently I post in this thing, now. Hell, consider that I just referred to it as a thing. There was a time, literally years ago now, when this journal was a very real thing to me. But who knows? Maybe it will be again.
That's not to say that I'm deleting it, or anything of the sort. Nor is it a resolution to post and update and record more often. That likely won't happen. They were just words, words, words.
I am decidedly unhappy currently right now. Why? I cannot say. It is not that I will not say, but that I cannot. I don't understand why I am unhappy, and therefore cannot speak on it.
But college is lovely. I wish I were more social, and I also wish I could spend more time alone, but it is lovely nonetheless.
Someday soon, perhaps when it is colder and less hospitable, I shall climb onto the roof of Irish A and gaze longlingly at my orgastic green light.
That's the tragedy of James Gatz, you see. His green light was no Polaris, but a will o' the wisp.
That's not to say that I'm deleting it, or anything of the sort. Nor is it a resolution to post and update and record more often. That likely won't happen. They were just words, words, words.
I am decidedly unhappy currently right now. Why? I cannot say. It is not that I will not say, but that I cannot. I don't understand why I am unhappy, and therefore cannot speak on it.
But college is lovely. I wish I were more social, and I also wish I could spend more time alone, but it is lovely nonetheless.
Someday soon, perhaps when it is colder and less hospitable, I shall climb onto the roof of Irish A and gaze longlingly at my orgastic green light.
That's the tragedy of James Gatz, you see. His green light was no Polaris, but a will o' the wisp.