Upon the beach where hound dogs bay
At ships with tattooed sails
Life these days is a macabre mixture of novel-worlds, moments of complete comfort and then days at a time of utter awkwardness and antisocial self-deprication. Everything runs like clockwork but my reactions are different every time.
I don't know why my friends are.
I don't know who my readers are.
I don't know what anyone thinks of me.
I don't know what I want to do with my life.
I break down a lot more lately but I always know that I'll get through it.
I always know what I'm doing on the weekends.
I always know that Harry loves me. He doesn't always say the right thing--but nineteen out of twenty isn't bad.
Wow, that was really whiney.
Dennis just walked into the lab and interrupted my posting to talk awkwardly about the lighting of On The Razzle, which I'm expected to take care of.
I wonder if there's any point to knowledge at all. I wonder if I'm smart enough to pick up a million pieces and see how they fit. I wonder if I'll ever be in a relationship this nice again.
Edited in later: I just ate an orange kit-kat and the more I think about it, the more it freaks me out. Whoa.
Keith's dad stopped by UBC on monday and his daughter recognized me. It was reassuring.
I think way too much about christmas presents. It's too early.
But if you know what you want, drop me a line, hm?
My PSAT tutor is nice but I forget to work so he just bullshits for an hour every other week. I'm skipping school for half a day tomorrow to take the PSATs because I missed them when I went to the Yale thing.
I'm afraid it'll tell me I'm stupid.
I have in-house for the next week. What's with Margaux enforcing all the pointless rules about the elevator and such? How can she stand spending her whole day enforcing petty, stupid rules that make no real difference to us and giving us punishments that look bad on our college transcripts? That said, I like Margaux fine and think she's nice and all. I just don't get it.
And Halloween was fun. Thanks.
I don't know why my friends are.
I don't know who my readers are.
I don't know what anyone thinks of me.
I don't know what I want to do with my life.
I break down a lot more lately but I always know that I'll get through it.
I always know what I'm doing on the weekends.
I always know that Harry loves me. He doesn't always say the right thing--but nineteen out of twenty isn't bad.
Wow, that was really whiney.
Dennis just walked into the lab and interrupted my posting to talk awkwardly about the lighting of On The Razzle, which I'm expected to take care of.
I wonder if there's any point to knowledge at all. I wonder if I'm smart enough to pick up a million pieces and see how they fit. I wonder if I'll ever be in a relationship this nice again.
Edited in later: I just ate an orange kit-kat and the more I think about it, the more it freaks me out. Whoa.
Keith's dad stopped by UBC on monday and his daughter recognized me. It was reassuring.
I think way too much about christmas presents. It's too early.
But if you know what you want, drop me a line, hm?
My PSAT tutor is nice but I forget to work so he just bullshits for an hour every other week. I'm skipping school for half a day tomorrow to take the PSATs because I missed them when I went to the Yale thing.
I'm afraid it'll tell me I'm stupid.
I have in-house for the next week. What's with Margaux enforcing all the pointless rules about the elevator and such? How can she stand spending her whole day enforcing petty, stupid rules that make no real difference to us and giving us punishments that look bad on our college transcripts? That said, I like Margaux fine and think she's nice and all. I just don't get it.
And Halloween was fun. Thanks.
posted by VVM at 8:35 AM
1 New Ideas
New Ideas:-
Harris Wolf thinks...
-
- 2:05 PM
Firstly my dear you need not worry about having future good relationships. Of that you are assured.
And secondly I do not get things right nineteen out of twenty times.
It's much more like thirty out of twenty or some such.
ta ta~
love, Mr. B
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