I feel like I want to run away. I can't say that I've ever had that sensation. I want to escape from everything. I want to beat feet until I hit Wenatchee, climb through the mountains in my worn out shoes. Visit my little cousin (who, I have to keep reminding myself, isn't so little anymore). Then I want to go home. I want to be lazy, and play with my dog. I want to drive to the lake in the evenings. I want to get sunburned. I want to get away from here.
That should be harder to say, ideally. I should love being here. I suppose on some level I do, but my affection for the people and things around me is too far away for me to feel, just now. I've been reading Bret Easton Ellis' "Rules of Attraction," and I keep trying to pat myself on the back for having my shit together better than, say Sean Bateman. But I know that's bullshit. Sean might as will be a caricature of me.
I have a bibliography and an outline due for a Political Science research paper due in ten days. I haven't started the research. I only sort-of have a topic. It's either the Russo-Japanese War or a paper extolling the immorality of war in general. I worry that it will be pure bullshit if I try, right now, to write 12-15 pages or morality. Not to mention the irony ihered in such a one as me making such an argument as that. "Man is a moral animal," eh? Man is an idiot.
I also have a "revisitation paper" to write for Doug Fix's Japanese Modernities. I was thinking about writing about the Russo-Japanese War for this one, too, but it doesn't seem like a great idea. We haven't had a lot of resources on it this semester, and I suspect that any argument I tried to make would be laughably tenuous. I need to have a "detailed" proposal to him by April 16.
These would be no problem, except that I have a Hum 230 paper which I have to write this week. Which means I need to get all the week's readings done this weekend, as well as a final descision on the topic of my Poli. Sci. research paper. And I need to find someplace in the library to hole up. Maybe with a small arms cache...
I've badly hurt someone I care for. I feel little else but impotent and pathetic sadness on this count. I failed miserably to be there for this person, because I couldn't figure out a simple peice of protocol. I'd like her to understand how I feel, but I can only say the word "moron" so many times.
I wish it were perpetually Friday. I've never even thought that before. Not even in those moments when you cross paths with a high-tension power line and wonder if you could walk it, or when you think about what it would be like falling from 4, 40, 100 stories. Not even in those brief moments of pure insanity have I wanted it to always be Friday.
That should be harder to say, ideally. I should love being here. I suppose on some level I do, but my affection for the people and things around me is too far away for me to feel, just now. I've been reading Bret Easton Ellis' "Rules of Attraction," and I keep trying to pat myself on the back for having my shit together better than, say Sean Bateman. But I know that's bullshit. Sean might as will be a caricature of me.
I have a bibliography and an outline due for a Political Science research paper due in ten days. I haven't started the research. I only sort-of have a topic. It's either the Russo-Japanese War or a paper extolling the immorality of war in general. I worry that it will be pure bullshit if I try, right now, to write 12-15 pages or morality. Not to mention the irony ihered in such a one as me making such an argument as that. "Man is a moral animal," eh? Man is an idiot.
I also have a "revisitation paper" to write for Doug Fix's Japanese Modernities. I was thinking about writing about the Russo-Japanese War for this one, too, but it doesn't seem like a great idea. We haven't had a lot of resources on it this semester, and I suspect that any argument I tried to make would be laughably tenuous. I need to have a "detailed" proposal to him by April 16.
These would be no problem, except that I have a Hum 230 paper which I have to write this week. Which means I need to get all the week's readings done this weekend, as well as a final descision on the topic of my Poli. Sci. research paper. And I need to find someplace in the library to hole up. Maybe with a small arms cache...
I've badly hurt someone I care for. I feel little else but impotent and pathetic sadness on this count. I failed miserably to be there for this person, because I couldn't figure out a simple peice of protocol. I'd like her to understand how I feel, but I can only say the word "moron" so many times.
I wish it were perpetually Friday. I've never even thought that before. Not even in those moments when you cross paths with a high-tension power line and wonder if you could walk it, or when you think about what it would be like falling from 4, 40, 100 stories. Not even in those brief moments of pure insanity have I wanted it to always be Friday.