take the rag away from your face; now ain't the time for your tears

I had a wonderful weekend but in school on Monday reading Dostoevsky I realize that I am a very confused person with a lot of thinking to do.

I won a debate in class today but I don't even know if I believed what I was saying or not.

All that I know about myself is that I really hate people who make choices that I know I'd never make, and there are very few choices that I can be sure I don't want to make myself. To put it another way, I don't agree or disagree with 99 out of 100 philosophical choices; but if someone sides with the one think I disagree with, or wears it, or acts in that certain way that I disagree with, I find myself hating them before I know why or even before I can identify the emotion. I know this is overdramatic and discriminatory and everything else. I'm not trying to justify it. All I know is that this is true of me.

This is something at least. But today I feel lost and on the brink of tears.

I feel as though I were made of shattered pieces of glass stacked up and breathing in delicate, dangerous little breaths, and I feel as though any moment someone will touch me and I'll fall to pieces on the floor.

I need silence to think in.