So, I forgot the article we were going over in French, so my teacher sent me to go and get it. A friend, (who had, crucially, less far to run) was also sent back and so I agreed to run off a photocopy of his copy when he returned with it.

This done, I sat outside to wait for a suitable duration so that it didn't look as though I'd been suspiciously quick getting my article. I even stood in the rain with my photocopy to make it look as though in my helter-skelter dash it had got wet, I bent down corners and folded it imprecisely in half. I was thorough, anyway.

You know how you can hold your breath and make your face go red and it looks just like you've been running? I did that, only just a little overenthusiastically.

Suddenly I can't see and I'm pitching forward, and all I'm aware of is the feeling of slamming the side of my head/glasses on the wall, and the subsequent acute pain this was causing to my temple and the bridge of my nose.

I found myself slumped on the floor, with a bleeding forehead and glasses severely bent some distance off, very briefly unable to recollect how long I'd been there. This was all a little scary. Mabye I'll just run and get it in future.

Today was a day for contemplation and a day for regret. Simplification of what has happened, or what might happen cycle through my head. It never silenced itself, never giving a chance for my mind to gain its sanity. It started in the wee hours of dawn, and still follows me now, like a lost stray looking for a home. With the pouring rain, I stare up in the sky, only to get hit in the eye with the cold rain. I shiver slightly, only to shrug it off and slowly enter.

Again, like a bad habit, I step outside into the cold. The rain drizzles from the west, with the wind chimes tinkling in the night. I hold the rail tightly, and feel the coldness in my palm. I grasp a little tighter, and just a little tighter, until I feel my knuckles flexing. The skin starts feeling tighter, and a little slippery, as it is coated with the cold rain. My glasses become covered in rain, and slowly, I wipe it off with my shirt, only to smudge the dirt already on the lenses. I look out blurrily, without my glasses, and see the magnificence of the evening, combining the lights of the sky with the lights of the city. Numbness starts gripping my feet, and I decide better by going inside. Gingerly, I place my hand on the handle, and close the window. I look closely at the view outside, and notice the handprint I have left the days before. Nostalgia grips my heart, and again, I realize, nothing is forever.

Click. The cell phone turns off. I leave it off, no charging, no anything. The conversation was short but sweet. Sweet voices in my head, recurring backwards through time. I think back, to how I lost myself to S, V and A. Their beautiful voices echoing in my mind like it was a cave. How I felt so much love for them, and give myself to them, only to never regain that part back. I look back and think of today. I've been baptized with fire, and I'm trying to climb my way back into the world.

The morning starts mildly early. I sit here, writing, thinking, moping and exercising. I check E2 for a moment, then go back. Then I call my lady friend to see if she wants to hang out but to no avail. So for the next few hours, I sit here, thinking back.

I remember one day back on top of a hill at a nearby elementary school. We sat there together, in the afternoon. It was a great afternoon. It was our first date. We were young, we were brash, and finally, we were low on cash. Sort of funny at the time, so we didn't mind spending some time just to get to know each other more. Time passed like a river, quickly and powerfully. I remembered when she placed her head on my shoulder. I froze as I felt her ear on my shoulder. Slowly, and hesitatingly, I place my arm around her. I could smell her perfume in the air, and her shampoo in her hair. I wanted to lean over and tell her how much I like her but I couldn't. Then, before I knew it, it was nighttime. We wound up holding hands, just talking for hours. Then I leaned over and moved my lips towards hers. Before I kissed her, I asked her whether I could. She replied back by moving closer to me and holding my other hand. We had moments like that for years but then my mistakes have cost me my happiness.

The afternoon came, and with the transit strike in full effect, I either had to walk to Ikea or take a cab. Since I was lazy, I took a cab. It was late, therefore I was late. I thought that work would be busy today but it wasn't but again, it dragged. I guess that's the disadvantage to retail. Its repetitive, boring and never changing. But at least I know my place and I know my role. It was the debut of my red hair and contacts look so I got a few smirks and giggles. Screw the critics. They just mad because they can't spike their hair like me. On the other hand, I felt like a chigger. I wanted to kick my own butt at one point but a pretty lady took notice of my hair and complimented it so it made my day.

MrFurious came and picked me up. It was raining again, only lighter. After a game of DDR and Strikers, I head home. I immediately come to the computer, turn on my Korean Music and listen quietly. Brood War was quick, and decisive. Dawadeving is such a better player than I but I got more points because I used Carriers. Now, after watching the last episode of Star Trek Deep Space Nine, I am here again alone.

No phone call yet but the night is young. I step outside. It is a beautiful night, with few clouds and great moonlight. I step out, with my socks on and my long basketball shorts. As the first step is taken, my sock is soaked thoroughly as the fake astroturf on my balcony is slick with water. I look out over the railing, only to see the yellow incandecent light from the city streets. I spend about half an hour meditating on a plastic blanket. Feel no pain, feel as if you are not there. I lose myself in my mind, to let it wander and fight with warriors in the past. I step back inside, and change out of my wet clothes.

I am here again, with the cold embrace of the darkness. Silently, I listen intently to the Korean melodies playing on my Winamp. I remember them, and their voices but not the words. Tomorrow, I will probably hum them to myself when no one is around. I do that. I'm not sure if people sing to themselves when they are alone and everything is quiet but thats okay. I never was one to be called normal. I sure as hell don't have a normal life.

Place your head on my shoulder. Let the wind carry the scent of your essence into my nose and into my brain. Place your hand on mine while I place my arm around you to hold you against me. Look at me with your beautiful eyes and smile gently. Make me feel like the world outside us two does not exist. Place your head on my chest to hear my hear beating. Tell me that you want to know how much I love you. I lean over, and kiss you gently on the forehead. How much I love you is not the point. How much time I have to show you is different. While it seems like forever while I'm with you, I don't have forever. I open my eyes and you're gone. I've woken up from my fantasy. Let be back to sleep. Let be back to days gone by. I miss you...

I am worried leetle one. And, I know that it is a selfish worry, but it exists none the less. In a few weeks you will be without a place to call home, and I know you are strong, and smart, and resourceful and you will have no problem keeping a roof over your head until you find another place to live. But, I worry about not seeing you. You have no cell phone. You have no laptop. Your kitty cat and I will have no way to reach you.

Just the thought of not hearing from you for a week at a time, or whatever it ends up being, makes the tears well up. I know it's selfish. I know you don't have much choice. But, I have fallen harder and farther than you realize. And the two of us will be as fish in a drought, a drought of deeablita, constantly looking to the skies in hopes your words will rain down upon us again.

But, what of you? I think you will be ok. I think you need this. To be forced into motion. To not have time to stop and chat. I have been there before. I know that as you lay your head down at night your heart will be with us, but the rest of your waking hours will be spent moving, working, focusing, and fixing, setting up the next stage of your life.

I may shed some selfish tears for my thirsty heart, but I will be smiling at yours as it makes it's journey.

I love you deeahblita. And I know that right now Boston is not the place for you, but she and I will have a place for you for as long as you need.

I Hate My Life



I wrecked my car today, which is actually my moms car (a silver 1999 Ford Escort Wagon).

Before I go into any details, let us start at the beginning of the day.
I wake up this morning when my dad comes into my room (knowing that I'm planning on going camping tonight, and therefore taking off of work in order to plan out the camping trip). He comes into my room and says "Look outside." I roll over to look out my window and see snow falling outside.
Snow!
It's the middle of April, all week it has been in the 60's and 70's, it's been scorching since the beginning of April, and today, the one day that I need nice weather, it snows!
So the camping trip is sacked, and put off until an undecided later date.

Instead of camping, I go out with a friend of mine (named Lindsley) and plan on staying with her at a mutual friend of ours (named Cela). So, instead of a camping trip, we would have a little sleep over at Cela's house.
It's also Tuesday, so I have my radio show on Free Radio Asheville (local pirate radio station on 107.5 FM that I DJ for once a week).
So we all decide to go to the radio station together and then go to Cela's house and watch a movie. Lindsley and I are on our way to pick up Cela. I leave the house, get about a mile and a half from my house, and I slam into the back of a white 1987 Mercedes station wagon.
What happened was that this woman (who's daughter I know from high school.... small world, huh?) was in front of me, and she stopped to turn left into her development and I couldn't stop in time, so I swerved right, off of the road, trying to avoid her. My front drivers side corner hit her rear passenger side corner. Her car barely had the paint scratched, but the rear passenger lights were broken. My moms Escort on the other hand... well, the hood buckled, the front driver side lights are smashed in and shattered, the front bumper flew off, and the front drivers side panel crumpled in.
In the end, she drove home, I got a ticket (which will probably be dismissed eventually), and I had to get the car towed (just because when it gets in a wreck the automatic fuel pump shuts off so the car won't explode, but in turn you can't start the car).
So Lindsley goes home, and I decide to stay home.

Later on, my dad offered to take me out to the radio station, and we could do the show together. I agree, and we drive across town to the radio station, only to find that something in fucked up with the transmitter, and the station isn't being transmitted at all.

After about 40 minutes of fumbling with all the components of the pirate radio station to no avail, we decide to forget it and go home. I leave a note on the mixer that says something to the effect of "Something here is fucked up, the station isn't being transmitted, if you fix it, e-mail me".

So, I come home, check my email, and get a letter from a girl named Audrey, who I used to have a very, very serious long distance relationship with, and who just visited in February. In this letter, she informed me that she is moving in with a guy, who "sleeps here everynight", and she wants to "tell me all about him".

If you read my daylogs, you know I'm a lonely guy, and I don't need to be told that yet another female doesn't want me.

So, today was hell.

All I can think is that this can't just be a bizarre string of coincidences, there must be some lesson that I'm supposed to get from living through this terrible day.

Please, God, let me keep a good attitude about life, please.

This is a stealth daylog.

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been at least a month since my last noding... as mentioned above though, this hopefully gives me some stealth. I am hoping, you see, that no one I know IRL will read this for a while - they don't tend to read daylogs and although active noders, probably won't check my WUs list for a while. (Perish the thought!)

help im a rock reminded me of a text I sent to a friend of mine not long ago - "I hate my life, how are you?". She liked it so much she bought the company!. Oh, wait, that's something else. Well anyway, she kept the message.

The whole point of this daylog, if you're wondering, is just so I can bitch about my life, so most of you should probably scroll down now. It's my own fault too - I've had a year to do my 3rd year project (the big one) and I have currently barely got a few hundred lines of code and it's due in in a week and a half. Along with a 15,000 word writeup. That would be annoying enough - but 4 days after it's due, my finals start. The ones that determine my whole degree mark. So I should really be revising. I am in deep trouble.

Of course, although I should be working, I went out tonight. A friend of mine called me up because she was in London (as opposed to away at Uni) and was bored. This friend is in fact an ex of mine - we went out with each other for a very short time (she ended it before it really started) and I haven't really seen her since then, but we have kept in touch. And today, out with her, I realised two things:

  • We really do have very little in common and it would never have worked.
  • Holy god she is gorgeous. I mean really, catch your breath, gorgeous.

She's not conventionally attractive really - I mean not the model type. But that's not for me anyway. I don't want to describe her too much because it would compromise her anonymity, but she has the clearest, most stunning blue eyes ever. And - even though we are just friends (she has a boyfriend now), she still has this habit of looking into your eyes anyway, as most people wouldn't in casual non-flirty conversation. This is very disturbing and I actually found myself purposely not looking at her while we were talking so that I would be able to continue to think straight. :)

Since I met her, I have been interested in a couple of other girls, but seeing her again just reminded me that none of them can compare. That in fact maybe no one ever will. I'm really scared that I might be denied the opportunity to feel this way ever again. And I don't envy any future girlfriends I might have either, since they will come up against an impossible ideal I seem to have created. The point is, until today, I had mostly forgotten about her, and that will happen again, but every time I see her it will renew this in my memory. To compound the issue, she complains to me that she has a lot of male friends and that when they get girlfriends they often break off contact with her, and that she's tired of losing touch with people. Little does she know I think that I also think I should never see her again, for my own sanity. I don't think she'd really understand.

When we initially broke up, it was a positive thing because I'd never felt anything like how I felt for her ever before, and so I felt it was a worthwhile experience just to know what I could feel. Even when I've been in love before, and I have, it was different. Maybe this is just acute lust, who knows? Anyway, I thought I had something to strive for, relationship-wise, life was worth living in pursuit of my new ideal. Today, when I saw her, it just reminded me how far I still have to go.

Someone help me!


melodrame: I have similar issues with Computer Science (see above). I just keep on bashing those gates. I've almost got 'em fooled!

So, uhh I graduate soon.

I thought about noding this there (at graduation, specifically), but I thought it didn't belong there.

May 12, 2001 I will officially have completed my course of study (being English) and will proceed to find a job and go on with life.

But I don't want to go.

It's not like I have this fundimental right to be at school any more. Say what you will, but I've had plenty of real jobs at various establishments, and this university setting is where I feel the most productive. I want to go to grad school and get my PhD.

So, yesterday my roommates friend says something to the effect that the humanities are useless. I bite my tongue not for the first time. Everyone that has just met me assumes I am merely a geek.

But I write.

Fuck it.

My Childhood is ending its momentary relapse. I never tried to have fun when I was young after a while. I mean, I laughed every day, which is more than I can say for many. But, err, my dad died. I got engaged. My mom remarried. My sister is 15 years old now. I can't be a kid forever.

So, where does that leave me, wanting my PhD.? It leaves me on everything at 1 am when I need to be up in a few hours. It leaves me with the realization that my source of stability, partially the 'net, will be leaving me, partially.

I realize that when I get home I will need to be with my wife, when I marry her. I have to atone for the years I've spent away and the sins I may or may not have thought of or committed. I realize that I toy now with the idea of working in a library, surrounded by books which I don't have to read anymore, but simply can enjoy, that idea is never going to happen.

Sure, I'll apply at the local Librarys in town, but no-one's going to hire a male fresh English major with a pony tail to reshelve books or even tend to the computer lab.

No-one will hire me to make their video game.

No-one will hire me to make their web page.

I will probably not go to grad school, though that's what I want. I don't have the right to even ask my girlfriend to come with me wherever I'll go. I've spent 5 years like this, with a pseudo-long-distance relationship, and I miss her. Everything about her. She's the important one. Is it possible I'm trying to atone for the sin of living by being subservant?

I won't even have a reliable 'net connection. My days as a regular here are dropping.

And the thing that scares me most is that I will never write again. I hope I'm wrong. Not here, specifically, but stories and non-stories and anything else will stop. That's the way I cry myself to sleep at night, when such things are necessary. I will stop reading because I find it impossible to read when a TV is on.

Life's bleak. I hope I'm wrong. Hope is important.

On the lighter side:

I tried to make an everything site . . . got almost everything set all up and then I'm going to try installing it tomorrow. I'm using debian. My domain will hopefully be evilware.com. The thing is that the instructions are rather vague.

I finished watching Cowboy Bebop. Damn that was a good series.

11:35

Morning.

Last night? Well, I played games. Steel Panthers: World at War: In the "Frozen Hell" scenario (set in The Winter War), the Finnish ski troops are represented by tanks. (I know, "one Finn was as good as 10 Russians", but this is ridiculous.) They have excellent samples, though. "Tulta!" "Perrrrrkele!"

Die by the Sword was fine, but it messed up my Win98 desktop totally. I wish it didn't break anything. DirectX backwards compatibility ocassionally just simply sucks.

Okay, today's stuff? Not Much Yet.

Time to face the challenges of the day...

15:38

Exult team improved the status of their Intel .debs. First, they had a note in their home page (http://exult.sourceforge.net/) that Intel .debs are "coming soon". That was up for a looooong time. Then they just removed it. I got tired of waiting and compiled it myself - now I can finally play Ultima 7 again..

The problem: Previously I could bake bread, but moving it out of the oven was not possible (Willy thought I was stealing the breads). Now I cannot tell it that "no, I'm just putting these breads to my backpack so you could see I have made the bread, I'm not stealing it if that's what is in your mind!" It's possible to move the breads around in the room though...


Other day logs o' mine...

Noded today by y.t.: Baking bread in Ultima VII Die by the Sword

Today was a good day at E2. I'd like to thank my hairdresser, my mechanic, my wife, God, and my local delicatessen.

Big extra-special shouts to my nodist friends who helped immesurably along this road -- alex.tan break Demeter dannye Footprints freaek Gemini jaypea Jinmyo kalon kimonade knifegirl lignocaine Lometa nine9 psydereal Rancid Pickle sensei sneff Trina Yurei ZamZ -- ah, and the rest of ya (you know who you are..) &-)

16.35 bst
One of those days. A completely unexpected day, where you don't think anything eventful is going to happen. And then you just get proven wrong

I got up to find some post for me - a very belated birthday present from my aunt. She'd sent me two CDs, Bring it On by Gomez, and Just Enough Education to Perform, the new one by the Stereophonics. I started noding some lyrics to JEEP, and this sparked off a bit of a lively debate in the catbox. Largely from people who can't stand the 'phonics, and saw it as a waste of time and nodespace.

It had to be cut short, because I got a call at about 11am from my friend Nick, to let me know that the Mechanics exam was in fact today - I had been fairly sure that it was tomorrow, and hadn't really done a lot of studying for it.

Panic.

I jumped in the shower, threw some clothes on, and headed off to uni. A quick bite to eat in the union, and then to the library for a bit of last minute, no good at all 'studying'.

The exam wasn't too horrible - the first question was really Higher Physics stuff. The others I'd have fared better in if I'd bothered to revise.

17.40 bst
Silly, silly martin. I phoned up the chick I met a the party a few weeks ago, with the intention of asking her out this Friday. There was about half an hour of talking crap before I got to the point. Not that I minded that, but I phoned from my mobile, to her mobile, at a cost of about £12 for the call.
The answer I have so far is a definite maybe.
18.45 bst
I meet a couple of friends in town, and we head out to Barrowlands. (Hasn't that been noded yet? I could be sure I had written it already).

We were off to see Ocean Colour Scene, and the crowd is definetly up for it. Some of them look like they've been drinking all afternoon. As a result of such joviality, between the support band and the main act coming on stage, there's a lot of plastic cups flying about, many of them still fairly full of beer. It was impossible to not get soaked, especially right up near the front.

The gig itself was good, and seemed to be very long - the set must have included about twenty songs. Best one for a gig, though, was July - it's got just the right rhythm for jumping up and down. Although I think I did pull a muscle in my leg or something...

I would suck as a concert reviewer

i feel small today. i feel too much. i think that i am so tired because i gave up. i think i am not sad, because i realized that there are no good answers for me, and i accepted it. i think i wish that i hadn't figured that out.

There are two days when the normally jocular Rancid_Pickle gets a bit melancholy and a tad depressed - April 18th (my Mother's birthday) and May 29th (the day my Mother passed away from cancer). My kids and wife know that these two days I should be basically left alone, and I pretty much become a hermit for the day.

Happy Birthday, Mom

Everyone seems depressed today. Don't worry, me too, but I'm hiding it. ;p

I downloaded the GIMP. I'll take no position on it yet, but we'll see how it works for me.

I'm supposedly in charge of the office this week. heh. Everyone here thinks I'm a computer genius, which is ridiculous. So does my 89-year-old neighbor, whose MSN I fixed (no, not by uninstalling it). I think he's the cool one. Imagine having the guts to learn something so alien at that age. Ralph is very interesting--he's been an award-winning bowler, a mechanic, a carpenter, a professional cartoonist (in the 1930s)...

I'm going to WonderCon tomorrow. Michael Chabon, the newly-minted Pulitzer Prize winner, will be there, so that should be cool.

Today is a good day for me. Not too much crying, not too much bitterness. I am getting used to the reality that I may never be fixed; I may always be broken. I've been broken for a really long time, I guess I'm used to it. And at least 3 people really love me in spite of it. There may be more, but these 3 are the only ones that I can acknowledge right now. They don't want anything from me.

My childhood was pretty fscking bad, and I will always have problems with trust and love, but I am already better than I have been.

It's also true that you don't know what you are missing if you have never experienced it. Although I feel that I know, in a sense, about missing something else. Anyway, a friend just got back into town, and I told her I was bi, and she was so happy for me. Now we have something else in common. She wants me to go to a gay bar with her and her lover. I will do this - probably next week. She was sorry to hear I wasn't thrilled to pieces, but I told her I was okay about it now, it was good for me to have to look at my prejudices and pride about this.

I thought that everyone who was in any way gay or bisexual had been abused. Boy am I wrong, wrong, wrong. My apologies (actually very sincere and heartfelt) go out to everyone in the entire world who is either gay or bi. My therapist corrected me; "Actually, you know, that's not true at all. There have been numerous studies done on this subject, and there has never been any correlation between childhood abuse and homosexuality." Boy do I feel small.

And now I realize why on so many "little" things. Why I always want to draw voluptuous naked women and their pretty pussies. Why I look at women, and look, and look, (when they are attractive in a certain way) and can't stop looking.

Amazing that I have denied this side of myself to me all my life. But not surprising, since I have DID. It's just not something I expected to come out of integration.

Well my spring break is over and my senior project is due next monday... crap. I barely have started on my rough draft and the teacher wants to see a finished rough draft by tommorow, I'm going to be burning the midnight oil tonight...

Anyways, I had an interesting experience this morning...
I dialed up to my ISP (which sucks major donkey balls right now), they had been doing pretty good lately so I wasnt expecting too much from them this morning. So I start surfin the net and I notice its a bit slow, so I open the status bar for my modem and it shows I connected at 2400 bps. Screams of terror came from my mouth as I witnessed this blasphemous event. I promptly called them up and told their tech support that their service was definatly not worth a huge pile of horse shit much less what I pay for it.

Then at school, I had just typed up a huge multi-page outline for my senior project. When I tryed to print it, I found that someone hadnt even installed the network up right on this one. So being the nice computer geek that knows everything at school I am, I re-installed the network, saved my work, and rebooted. When it came back up, I found that the network hadn't even been changed, the printer still fucked up, and the worst... my report gone. Come to find out the dumbass computer tech (who puts CD labels on the wrong side) had installed Centurion... a program that restores the hard drive everytime you reboot.

Well hell... and every minute that was after that was pure hell.

Oh well I guess what I had coming to me today so for now...

Unlike my last daylog, this is a bitch-log. If you don't want to read me bitching, then move on. Acutally, if you don't want to see someone bitching, why the hell are you reading daylogs?!?

Ok. I'm here for my morning break. I like it here. I like to chatter during my breaks and ICQ just isn't dynamic enough for me. So I come here, load up the Javabox and I'm on my way.

This isn't the only thing I do during my breaks, so I usually end up with about 15 windows and icons on my taskbar. This is fairly normal for me and I'm used to it.

Another thing that's fairly normal for me is that I run over the end of my breaks trying to get one last thing finished and so end up with some non-work-related windows up while doing my work-related stuff.

So it goes today. I think nothing of it.

Then comes lunch time. I clock out and start opening up my break-time windows: E2, ICQ and Neopets, lately.

And there I see it. A message from EDB that I was borged for having the temerity to complain in the Chatterbox about waiting for something to load!

EDB: I ate you. yeah, things are laggy. but do you have to complain about it EVERY DAY

First off, getting a message from EDB is pretty sucky. There's just no way to respond and you have no way to know who it was that got pissy at you. Plus, regardless of reality, it makes the person writing seem like a coward, hiding behind EDB.

Next, and worse, in my opinion, I WASN'T FREAKING COMPLAINING ABOUT THE LAG ON E2, EVEN THOUGH E2 WAS LAGGING AT THE TIME!!! Shit, do people really believe that I have nothing else in my sad little life than E2? I know I spend a lot of time here and I know I can be pretty annoying sometimes (something to do with poor impulse control), but really, this isn't the entirety of my computer life!

I wish there were some way I could direct this at the appropriate person, but there's just no way, so I'm venting my frustration about the whole situation here. IF YOU'RE GOING TO BORG SOMEONE FOR OFFENDING YOU, AT LEAST MAKE CERTAIN THEY'RE ACTUALLY DOING WHAT IT IS THAT OFFENDS YOU!

You want to know what offends me? (if you don't then why are you even reading this?) What offends me are people levying accusations that are innaccurate. What offends me are people who do things in such a manner that there are no avenues for reparations if there is a mistake.

I'M OFFENDED BY PEOPLE WHO MAKE ASSUMPTIONS AND THEN ACT WITHOUT TRYING TO GATHER ANY INFORMATION TO CONFIRM THEIR ASSUMPTIONS!!!

end of line

Mea Culpa

A year ago today I lost someone, and although I never knew who they were, I still feel the pain of loss. I never even knew the gender of the child, conceived in love but killed by small minds which turned care into hate.

And this evening, I visited my parents for dinner, to meet the progenitors of this pain, who had rejected their unborn, bastard grandchild almost at conception. I still wrestle with my feelings for them, those who brought me into the world, cherished me and brought me to this place, 45 years on.

I almost revert to childhood, complete with sucked thumb and crying myself to sleep. I wish I had the chance to know my child, torn from the womb by intolerance, that I might apologise.

Mea maxima culpa.

Today was a good day, and it was a bad day. I started smoking cigarettes again, which is bad. I hadn't smoked for almost 2 years, and then a couple weeks ago I started bumming drags off of my friends cigarettes. Then I stopped doing that, and hadn't had a breath of tobacco smoke in a few weeks. Then today, I went to my physics class and remembered about the test that was due yesterday, that I'd forgotten about completely because I've been working all the time on my stoopid fucking computer science lab. Bastard amze solving. I hate my computer science class. Of course, there are probably other factors in forgetting about the test(smoking lots of pot comes to mind), but it's easier to blame computer science. The week had started on kind of a good note, since Monday was the first day that I didn't smoke pot in weeks, but even not being stoned all the time has not helped me catch up on my work.

Anyhow, after a good solid 21 months of not smoking, I've started again, which is bad. I've already had 4 butts today, and it's not even night. And my maze-solving program doesn't seem any closer to running than it did yesterday.

Today had its good points too. For one, I like smoking cigarettes. It does relax me and give me a chance to step back and enjoy something simple and basic. Even if I don't know what to do with the rest of my life, I know what to do with the cigarette in my hand. It's nice having two or three minutes here and there to stop and evaluate what condition my condition is in. And I got to smoke a cigarette with my friend Carrie, who is really cool and awesome and always has a hug and manages to make me feel better no matter what. Carrie's really cool, and she's got lots of love to give, which is awesome.

It's been a good day and a bad day. I feel better, but I think the basic situation is unchanged. There's still too much, and I don't know what to do about it, and it's confusing and stressful and depressing. But, I feel like I'm going to pull through now at least.

If today had a smiley, it would be :-/.
life...don't talk to me about life.

i spent the morning sick, tired, and hungry, trying desperately to get out of bed and failing time after time. i made it to class, somehow, despite this. i stumbled into work early (by some miracle), clutching a yet unopened can of red bull, and was confronted wth a xerox request. 260 copies 1->2 sided stapled. not bad, except that the copier here only does stapled in sets of 20, and on humid days, like today, attempts to feed 10-15 sheets of paper at a time. so here i sit, having wrestled the copier into submission over the course of two hours, made a paperclip sculpture of a dancing girl while waiting for the copies to be made, and folded all 260 memos and put labels on them. my job title here is "technical strategist", yet somehow, i wind up folding memos, answering the phone, walking to north campus (about 1.5 miles from my office) to deliver papers...at least they pay me well. no, actually, they don't, i just tell myself that so that i won't lose my mind and throw my rubberband ball out a window. i'm very tired right now, and i just want to sleep alone in my tiny bed until everything settles down, but i have a 10pg paper due tomorrow. i think i forgot to eat. i think i ate yesterday, but it's sort of fuzzy. don't get me wrong, i *like* food. i just get a little distracted sometimes. my uncle is coming into town tonight, and i hope i can tear myself away from my next paper long enough to go to dinner.

and for those of you who care, here's last night's paper on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

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