for me.

garrett hedlund.

for xach.

dragon master.

sign on failed. try again.

its nearly four am.
im in the seventeenth floor study lounge.
listening to punjabi mc.
im going to fail out of school.

and all i really want to do is get a loft in brooklyn. with open rooms. and 16 foot ceilings. and decorate it with cheap and artsy looking things so that whoever comes upon it will assume i'm terribly tortured or talented or both.

im supposed to be writing this paper on education and morals but guess what. i havent done it. the only thing i have written down is the webster definition of education and the sentence 'education is everything.' im not even sure if i believe that anymore. i mean i know i believe it, but i dont know if its true. im terribly tired and my body is falling into pieces. i need a haircut and a new outfit. i havent felt pretty in weeks. im getting fat. i eat cheesecake and potatoes and waffles all day. its disgusting.

today abbe and i had a picnic outside. it was a nighttime dinner picnic. the most romantic kind bien sur. we chatted and fell in love all over again, as per usual. i do love that girl. we plan on going downtown this friday. i hope to be ridiculously drunk on friday night. i havent had a true drunk night in a long long time and i am ready to feel the intoxication only alcohol can bring. i could use an escape. ever since ive started working ive been a little bit too deep into reality. and i feel like everyone around me has just been getting these slap in the face reality checks. not the cool ones where afterwards you're grateful and feel enlightened. but the gross scary kind that make you fear and question. my god i cant even inhale anymore without coughing. i'll never be well again. maybe i was just destined to be this weak. always behind. that what i am. whether its in school work, real work, health, social bullshit, emotional bullshit, or i dont know what i feel like im always catching up and thats the way its gonna be forever. like im just running and running and running and someone just keeps kicking the finish line a foot back everytime i get close. what is the motherfucking point. you know what. i dont even know if thats how i really feel. thats how dumb i am right now. what the fuck ever.

im sorry but i really enjoy using the word fuck.
actually fuck that i'm not sorry.

im in the mood for a song. and the only song that is a mood maker needs to be on right now. and if you know me, you know what this song is. so lets leave it at that.

they changed the paint in the study lounge. it really did make it much more serious and absolutely more condusive to studying. despite the lack of studying that i have done since i've been here. no motivation. ive just got no fucking motivation. i should be devestated right now. i have decided not to do the paper that is a large percentage of my grade for a class that i have actively neglected. but instead im typing in my motherfucking blog listening to radiohead. and completely okay with myself. im more annoyed at the fact that im supposed to be annoyed than anything else. and its not a fucking fact its an assumption which is the most annoying thing of all.

oh my god im ranting and raving about how oppressive college is but im here by choice. and bullshit im not because everything in life is a choice. i choose to believe that if i dont go to college my life will be difficult and i choose to believe that it is important to make my familiy proud by pursuing my education and i choose to go to class (on occasion) and do my work and make some pathetic effort to do well.

In a little while
I'll be gone
The moment's already passed
Yeah it's gone
And I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here


i suppose i should just go to bed now. theres no point in me being awake. im going to get up tomorrow, do my philosophy homework, go to the language lab and do my arabic homework, go to my classes, then smoke as much weed as i can stand, go to the park and soak in something, then go on a date with zachary and worry about tomorrow as it comes. i wish i was better. i wish i was better. i wish i was better.

journal entry.

im at work at cafe lalo.
thinking about strawdogs.
what a crazily fucked up movie.

leave it to tanksley to blow my mind at the most innocent of times...a friday afternoon. i remember losing my mind every friday afternoon. just knowing that the weekend was finally with me was enough to make a kid go crazy. walking in the middle of the road screaming at the top of my lungs without a care in the world.

worksheets were done, lines were filled with color and i was as old as i'd ever be. the first, last and only day...friday. the best day.

not like today. this day is no friday. waking up late with a hangover and running to a cancelled french class with unbrushed teeth. this is not the magical friday of yesteryear. watching dustin hoffman brutally kill 5 or 6 grown men with covered ears and a gaping mouth all alone is not exactly magical. cold scilian pizza and spicy vegetable soup. hardly my idea of warm and fuzzy. smudged eyeliner and chipped nail polish. not cute. deoderant stains on stolen black shirts. competeing for the attention of busboys and wiping crumbs off marble. waiting for my prince to come. thats a bit more like it.



---this is what i do at work...thank god---

germs are having sex in your drinking water.

i am a sick girl.
hopped up on liver killing tylenol
listening to juanes.

i love that its still light out. summer days lazy days. i used to love coming into the city during the summer when i was little and seeing everyone sitting on their steps just chilling. someone would be eating somehing, someone else would be playing something but they'd all just be out. how nice it is to just be out. i love the blanket of winter but i also love the summer. except for when im sick and inside just as i would be during winter. but at least i can open the window without any anxiety.

so im craving grilled cheese sandwiches. grilled cheese made with whole wheat bread and cheddar cheese. just like my mom would make them. im also missing sick days the way they were intended to be. when youre too sick to go to school and your mom lets you sleep late only to periodically interrupt your slumber with tablespoons of cherry medicine, glasses of orange juice or a grilled cheese sandwhich. i remember staying home from school and being escorted down to the den to watch the kids shows on pbs under my mothers big itchy blanket. and then my favorite part would come. my mom would bring out those white folding tables. i dont know why i loved those things so damn much. they were just these cheap white plastic folding tables, just big enough for everything i wanted. a paper plate, in a wicker tray with a (duh) grilled cheese sandwich on top. a small bowl of tomato soup. a bottle of water. a glass of orange juice and another small plate with apples and cinnamon. i lovved those tables. thats the way sick should be. not freezing under your covers surrounded by clean unfolded laundry contemplating philosophy homework. this is all wrong.

ever lie and convince yourself that its true? i think its so weird how we can do that to ourselves. the capability to evoke genuine emotion from a complete and total lie. we are some weird kids.

okay im gonna let the medicine knock me out right now since im already in bed.
soo real.