just your average... er... correction: just your normal... correction: me. |
For all the like-mindednesses, I cannot know when to be sympathetic if I have not been told by anyone either directly or indirectly. Achiness is gone almost entirely. I can't figure out if the rest is real or psychosomatic. I am such a bundle of contradictions. I am a pessimist, but at the same time believe that everything is for the best. I fear, but I manage to muster up unknown courage when the need arises. I do things on a whim, and yet I write lists for myself. Human nature is a contradiction. Started reading a book on the philosophy of The Matrix. Probably not the best thing for me to read. I reiterate my opinion that Emily Dickinson had it so f---ing easy. Today dragged by so slowly, then it flew, then it dragged, then it flew, and now it is dragging again... I just thought I'd neglected an IM for five minutes... It hadn't even been one. Tiredness doesn't help me. I need to keep a log of everything I do. Then maybe I won't confuse what I've done on what days. "Have you talked to so-and-so today?" "No. Wait... maybe I did. Or not... Or so... Well, I spoke with them sometime within the last... week?" My inability to comprehend English at times really isn't altered by outbursts of Gaelic and German. A friend said to me last night that I should become a hippy. Then people wouldn't question anything I say or do and I wouldn't have to care. I told him I couldn't do that. My imagination already has a habit of producing things which would either terrify or enthrall LSD addicts. Today has been a real code blue for conversation. The longest conversation I've had with anyone today was chatting for five or ten minutes with another tutor (who I don't think I'd ever said more than five words to) while we were waiting for people to come. I've been very, very apprehensive lately for no reason. And vaguely apathetic. And extremely mischievous, but no idea where that one came from. Too much thought. And I ponder instinct again... Too suggestible... One of these days I'll be raving and won't be able to stop. Not the glowstick kind either. The more I think, the more I think I should put down the Matrix book until I'm more sure-footed. And the more I think, the more my brain shuts down and pleads weakly for sleep. |