writing fondly and speaking fonder still

Just read over the last entry I made and while parts of it are relevant, I refuse to think like that. I'm really quite fine on my own, I just miss being with someone who really likes me. All people are like that, I suppose, but I will not let myself get to the point where I am so incredibly pathetic. I am rather determined about this.

I need a 208.2 aggregate, so...

English - 50
Methods - 50
Specialist - 40 (scale to 50)
Chemistry - 46 (scale to 49?)
Revolutions - 43 (scale to 45) --> 4.5
Literature - 46 --> 4.6

I can get there. But it's going to require work.

mother/father/sister/mistress/whore/unsure

Seized by sudden yet potent fits of inadequecy. Sometimes I find myself looking inward and just finding want, pure and unsatisified and just so much it's frightening. And not even for material things - because I could fix that, I could fix that - just for something honest and something proper and something unconditional. Something to fix on, to orbit about.

I figure this sounds kind of unhealthily dependent and vaguely sick, but I suppose it's the basis of human nature - we like to be like but we need to be needed? Something like that, anyway. I'm - bereft, I guess. A1 is, I suspect, kind of depressed, and I wonder if I'm not close to that myself.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not interested in slitting my wrists or writing terrible poetry - actually, scratch that, I really *am* writing terrible poetry. I'm just kind of - I don't know. In a giving mood. I feel a little bit empty and a little bit sad, but not enough to really compel me to do anything drastic. It's the apathy that I'm afraid of.

It's just - I don't even know. Doubt can cripple us all. I like the visions I have of myself sometimes, fiery-eyed and furious, careening through life like a meteor on crack. Maybe it's my advanced years but I don't really see them as possibilities anymore, just - pretty. I think I could be happy, I really could, but I can't help but feel stupid and lost and young and like I've just regressed and regressed and I'm such a child. I don't know what's going to happen, I don't even know what I want except that - and I can't have that.

I would like someone to love me unconditionally.

That would be unhealthy, maybe.


I'm hoping it's not a "real problem", more a temporary state of mind that will go away once I finish exams. They're kind of daunting and I find myself crossing off the days with real horror. I should yank myself out of it though, you know it's bad when you start agreeing with lyrics. (Listening to Keane while uneasy - that's what I'm calling it - is a revelation. Suddenly they sound very profound - even "I'm getting old and I need something to rely on" strikes a vulnerable chord or two.)

What do I want? What would make me feel better? Barring that which I cannot seem to find/recover:

- Work ethic comma a better
- Subsequently, a really nice ENTER. 99.9 please.
- A job for the holidays. David Jones is okay. Would make me feel better even if I'd hate the work.
- Some really nice foundation that a) matches and b) gives me the appearance of perfect skin
- Hugs


It's really pathetic, and kind of simple, but I guess that's the kind of person I am sometimes. I'm not happy about it but I'm sort of okay with it. Trying to stay positive is not really a me-trait, but I can give it a decent shot, can't I? For me.


Plus est en moi?

it's a thoughtful kind of place/ where munchkins dwell and high school's swell

- eighteen
- kind of resigned
- A+ on the chem midyear
- period three weeks late
- tired
- missing you