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Today is one of those days when I feel like shouting "You are such a heterotroph!" at the next person I see. Yeah, I'm studying a lot for my bio test tomorrow.
Sherman Alexie, the next guy we're reading in my ethnic voices class, is deliriously amusing.
I really want to go sit down somewhere and read Nabokov's Despair, but I have too much work to do. Ugh. I was thinking about having a Danger Man or the Prisoner (the episodes in the beginning that I haven't seen; I haven't seen the very first one!) marathon over the weekend, but I have to stop by the video store to see if they have what I want.
My self-confidence best resembles a sine wave. There are days when I'd like all of the hormones and chemicals in my head to calm down and let me work in peace. Little things manage to silently root themselves in the back of my mind until all I know is that I can't really concentrate and have to wonder why that is the case. The plate of mostly uneaten meringues that I gave to my ringer outside the library, the seating in bio class...I'm sure that there's nothing wrong, and somehow there's a perfectly reasonable explanation out there, but it's not helping so much. It's one of those days when I wonder without self-pity why anyone would like me as a person at all. I'm not very loveable, and sometimes (hopefully not too often) I act bizzarely and scare people, or maybe just puzzle them enough so that I become some kind of scientific spectacle. I suppose that's one of the reasons why I'm so attracted to the Prisoner; it's the closest I have to a living example that individualism is noble. But it's always seemed to me that while real individuals have some secret understanding that the rest of us don't, they're fairly depressed people.
Sherman Alexie, the next guy we're reading in my ethnic voices class, is deliriously amusing.
I really want to go sit down somewhere and read Nabokov's Despair, but I have too much work to do. Ugh. I was thinking about having a Danger Man or the Prisoner (the episodes in the beginning that I haven't seen; I haven't seen the very first one!) marathon over the weekend, but I have to stop by the video store to see if they have what I want.
My self-confidence best resembles a sine wave. There are days when I'd like all of the hormones and chemicals in my head to calm down and let me work in peace. Little things manage to silently root themselves in the back of my mind until all I know is that I can't really concentrate and have to wonder why that is the case. The plate of mostly uneaten meringues that I gave to my ringer outside the library, the seating in bio class...I'm sure that there's nothing wrong, and somehow there's a perfectly reasonable explanation out there, but it's not helping so much. It's one of those days when I wonder without self-pity why anyone would like me as a person at all. I'm not very loveable, and sometimes (hopefully not too often) I act bizzarely and scare people, or maybe just puzzle them enough so that I become some kind of scientific spectacle. I suppose that's one of the reasons why I'm so attracted to the Prisoner; it's the closest I have to a living example that individualism is noble. But it's always seemed to me that while real individuals have some secret understanding that the rest of us don't, they're fairly depressed people.