one week 'til the roller jam. i'm still excited, but it's going to be a huge bust and i'm going to lose a lot of money. i just hope the few people that do show up have a good time.
people look to me to be a leader. i don't know why. i have never been successful at it. i have never asked to play the part.
i've been thinking about enlisting in the navy again. i've given up on the baccalaureate program, but the idea of just following orders sounds so good to me right now. i'm sick of fucking my life up.
i'm having boy problems. it's so lame. i don't even want a boyfriend. ever, maybe. i just wanna hang out with people when i hang out with them and not feel obligated to do it or guilty about not doing it the rest of the time. i really don't want to like any one person more than any other person. i just want to take people for what they are, appreciate them for what they bring to my life. plus, i really hate making out. and bad sex. or all sex. i forget.
the polar bear plunge is also next weekend. you can still donate to the cause!
the flash mob is never going to happen and i hate everyone involved with it at the moment.
school... i'm over it. i'm not that smart. i don't care if i ever am that smart.
other people's expectations are really getting me down again. school, boys, work, life, mojo. fuck it. fuck you. fuck me.
yossarian lives. even reading catch-22 makes me feel like an idiot. it's not that i don't get the story. but i'm blind to all these structural and stylistic devices. i can't interpret literature. i don't know how anyone can.
i'm struggling to be something, but i don't know what yet. it makes every fucking failure painful, because i can't tell what's pertinent to my ultimate goals if i can't tell what my ultimate goals are. not that it would really matter, perhaps, since i seem to be so sensitive anyway.
i don't know what matters, so it all matters.
it's no way to live.