(no subject)
There are two large papers staring me in the face. A smaller one sits at my heels with puppy dog eyes that would make even a hardened criminal give in. Yet, I have no desire to write anything. As I stated earlier I failed the JWP. Everyone else I know passed but because I failed I get Pity Post removed and they don't say anything about it. Now it's like I'm some sort of freak. This test is having a surprisingly huge effect on me. I struggle to get myself through regular homework and when it comes to putting paragraphs together, I just can't.
I'm second guessing everything I say. Anytime I state a fact that four days ago I would have supported, I stop and can't tell if it's the truth or just something that my brainlessness has caused. It's like I'm dazed and can't get myself up again. Writing was something I just considered to be part of me. If I hadn't chosen Theater as a major I probably would have gone with creative writing. I may not be phenomenal at it but I've always enjoyed writing.
So now, I'm a partial person. I literally feel like I've been ripped in half. I don't know weather I believe them or not. But part of me wouldn't be surprised. If possible I'd like to go to the writing center and see the essay. And a small part of me wants to contest it.
Right now this means no ancient Greek next semester. I have to take the ENG 300 class and there's no way that this extra ge equivalent class is going to mess up my schedule for the rest of my college time.
So I'm supposed to write for NANO but I can't see that happening. I typed up some stuff on one of the religions but couldn't get myself to write anything else.. leaving me with a whopping 322 word count. Wonderful right?
I am feeling better about the whole thing than I have for the last couple of days. The day that I found out I was more depressed than I've ever been in my life. I spent a good part of my time before going to Mark's Directing scene on the floor in my bathroom. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to melt away. I wanted to die. Who says Phobias aren't helpful? When I started thinking about dieing some part of my brain woke up and snapped. I berated myself for being stupid and even considering something that could get me hooked up to needles and requiring long hospital stays, then got up and calmed down enough to be ready in time for Mark's scene.
I kinda think the whole thing helped me at least for his scene. Not caring about the outcome of life in general made me a bit more willing to do what was asked of me.
So now I just more or less feel like an incompetent moron. My thick headed laughable loser ways and thoughts are going to get me no where.
...............................................
But yesterday's D7D game which I somehow made it to this week, first time in a month actually, was a great pick me up. Random and fun as always the game was a three hour battle between us and a bunch of guys in the mexican desert... and we were going to head to Puerto Rico afterwards but in a sad twist of fate Chris's spell book, the reason for the trip, was read by the theif and well to say the least a large portion of Puerto Rico exploded and now there's a second rift in time.
And then from like midnight thirty till two thirty we read silly laws off the internet. One of my favorites: In Conn to officially be considered a pickle, it must bounce.