i wish i knew why i was friends with some of the people i'm friends with -- to have such volcanic appetites towards the most pedestrian things...i don't get it. you know, i'm thankful for my childhood, but it's been such a handicap in the way i see stagnated people. such a jaundiced eye. there's just more to life than certain things. 

 should probably stop compromising my productivity for this regional magnetism i've become obsessed with. every year at this time, i swear. i can't stop personifying this place. it's unrequited and always will be. i just want to go home. 

i applaud death's uncanny ability to make everything during life seem foolish   

 you know, i've read about this feeling so many times that one would think i could forge through it better. but with said feelings interspersed in my mind without the romanticized threading of my literary archetypes, maybe i'm not feeling it like i should. the ache (ache?) is there. my body is sitting in the middle of a teeter-totter. unforgiving ( Read more... )

 i'm a bitch

 i'm going to be abrasively direct here.  i desperately want to be left alone. it's so incredibly difficult to focus when i'm forced to listen to the chorus of self-pity that is showered on me daily. ask yourself honestly: do i really care that you have five papers due this week? no, i don't. why? because i do, too. it's called finals. no, actually ( Read more... )

 i am the last person left in my apartment; everyone else has gone home for break. now, i could easily down the alcohol in our refrigerator while running around our place naked and blasting the shit out of kanye's new cd. however, i choose to write a fucking paper. hm. you know how "they" say the presidency is an aging job? i could say the same for ( Read more... )

 p.s. i can't read your mind. either be direct or let it fester. 

"I wanted to write about it all. Everything that happens in a moment. The way the flowers look when you carry them in your arms. This towel - how it smells , how it feels...it's thread. All our feelings - yours and mine. The history of it. Who we once were. Everything in the world. Everything mixed up."

-The Hours

"I don't want you to go through life and regret not taking chances." Great. Thanks, mom.