10.10.2002 | 10:48 a.m.
linger on....

I am so upset right now, I'm honestly on the verge of bursting into tears in the goddamn library. I wish I wasn't in a school where everyone is a rich asshole with daddies that pay to support their childs' drug habit. I wish academia wasn't a bunch of bullshit. I wish I didn't have to put up with people stupid enough to plagiarise for opinion papers. No, not research papers, but OPINION papers. I wish they actually offered half the classes they claim to instead of leaving me with no option but to take classes I don't even need. I wish the classes I do need and that this stupid piece of shit school miraculously offers, didn't clash with each other. I'm honestly beginning to think that they deliberately plan the schedules and time-tables in a way that people have to do summer classes to graduate on time. Every one I know is in the same predicament. It just makes me so mad! I didn't plan to do both the summer sessions, but now I have to. I have to take 'Research and Writing Methods' first semester of my junior year, which means I have to do 'Beginning Social Research' next semester, but that just about clashes with all my other Gen Ed requirements. To top it all off, they changed the timings of 'Mass Communications and Society' at the very last minute so now that clashes with 'Childhood, Socialisation and Culture' - both requirements for my major. I had the schedule so well planned out. I should have known it was too good to be true.

Yesterday was the most tumultuous day I've had in a while. It started off fairly well, turned horrible, turned back to being pretty good, to horrible, to absolutely fucking incredible to "normal." But unlike most times, it wasn't my hormones wreaking havoc; it was simply the events of the day. To summarise really quickly: good meeting with Hugh, didn't get any of my classes, watched Harold and Maude, boy problems, made arrangements to see the Harrison tribute concert (!!!!!!!!!!), more registration hassles, after-dinner snacks at The Village with Monica and Daisy. I fell asleep listening to 'Sea Change.' I honestly never believed that Beck of all singers would have the potential to depress me so completely. The album just feels.....too immaculate though. I don't want to say slick, but I can't think of a better word. But at the same time, it's so melancholy and pretty that it made me cry myself to a dream-infested sleep. I love him. I wish there was a less cliched way of saying it but there isn't. He's so naive, I don't even think he sees it. If he does, he's feigning ignorance to save me from hurt and embarassment. I'm never going to tell him. We're just about rebuilding our friendship anyway. This would ruin everything. He would truly hate me if he doesn't already after everything I put him through the last few months. All I can do is hope and pray that I will come to my senses soon or later and actually realise that the situation is the reason they make terms like cul-de-sac. I'm setting myself up for so much hurt. He told me himself that he had to kill off his sensitivity and didn't care anymore. He told me himself. And yet, I'm being so goddamn illogical...

I swear to God, this diary reads like that of someone on serious drugs. "I want to die!" "I'm so happy!" "I hate the world!" "Awww,today the coolest thing...." But isn't that what life is about essentially? Variety and constant surprise? It damn well should be.

deja vu? | jamais vu?