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"He did not know why he was so irrationally happy, for nothing had changed in his life or hers. He had not even touched the tip of her fingers or looked her full in the eyes. But their evening together had given him a vision of what life at her side might be, and he was glad now that he had done nothing to trouble the sweetness of the pircture. He had a fancy that she knew what had restrained him..." (Wharton 56)

Sometimes, a cup of coffee, a guitar, and a breezy day makes everything seem alright.
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I Puked All Over This...
posted on Thursday, March 17, 2011 @ 5:23 PM
Wow. I feel so exceptionally horrible.
I only feel that way because I've been feeling more and more average lately.
Average. Typical.
I'm in a really weird funk that I'd love to get out of, but I don't seem the light yet. I just see a lot more rocks piling in the hole.
A lot more things that probably won't matter.
Like NEHS? Probably a waste of time.
And a World Lit letter? Just kind of annoying...
I'm exhausted, but I've gotten decent hours of sleep...only because I pass out by eleven.
But not everything's done.
It's. Never. All. Done.
"I just need someone to get my mind off the stress."
-Only that just brings more stress, more time, more annoyances.
More everything.
It's. Never. All. Done.
I want to sit. I want to watch a sunrise. I want to go do something super cliche.
I want to walk for many many hours.
I want to drive for many many miles.
I want to get my focused mind back, the one that would only focus on a single conversation or project at one time.
Just. One. Because. It's. Never. All. Done.
I don't think I was ever super focused on anything this year...but I know I've certainly been more focused.
So I'll focus on what's to be done the soonest, and try to not be so average when I do things.

Sitting in a silly practice room at school made me feel exceptionally average.
I just couldn't sing anything that I really liked.
It's frustrating. It's insanely frustrating.
So. Freaking. Frustrating.
I'm going to walk more. Maybe start running a little?
Just to get more physically alright.
I just feel so pathetically average.

Maybe I shouldn't feel quite so average, but I do.
"It's not your fault."
-But it is, in a way.
I feel horrible because I'm beating myself up.
I should quit doing that.

And I can't find a critical piece for my World Lit application. :/
I always opt for the creative option. And I can write poetry.
But I can't seem to write a decent paper.
That might be a lie...I've only gotten one back.
But the one I got back was horrible. Not something I could ever pass in again.
But I can't find any of my other papers. I think they're all on that black flash drive I lost forever ago.

Tonight:
Bio Lab
English test overview
Project or letter
A Farewell to Arms or Cleaning

Is A Farewell to Arms good? I've heard it's pretty good.
It's Hemingway. It should be alright.
Writing when you're drunk...raw words. Raw feelings, and such.
Mm.

Good things happened this week too.
I'm just exceptionally frustrated with myself at the moment.
It's fine. Really.
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