Bloggity blog blog blog.

I’m craving for a haircut. My mind’s tellin me noooo, but my body, my body’s tellin me yeeeess.

Should I, or shouldn’t I?

Sigh. Ok. I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to let the love of my life go. We’ll never be.

That’s ok. Kinda. When winter quarter comes I’ll see him less. And I’ll learn to move on.

Memories of admiring his profile and the back of his head will haunt me until then.

Lawls.

I wanna be a MAC for halloween, anyone wanna be my PC counterpart?

I HATE WRITING THEM. I always feel they don’t do the body of the essay/writing justice. As with life.

Such as the Iraq.

The love of my life is getting his thoughts of me tainted with the presence of her.

BEEZY.

Ugh, fucking sorority girls.

Hahah. I was so close.

Ah well, I guess I got till sophomore year to find me a baby daddy.

Anywho, it’s crunch time! Still got that John Keats paper to write. Three more pages to fill with theoretical nonsense.

“Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?”

-Percy B Shelley.

supmaan:

Take care of my ovaries…so this won’t happen to me AGAIN.

We all should take care of our ovaries. Those things need love.

I’m glad you’re okay my dear. Feel better soon! Tell your ovaries I send them my love.

“Yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade…”

So I went to the library in hopes to not distract myself and to get started on my paper due Tuesday.

Only, I ended up falling asleep, so not only do I have a fat drool stain on the essay I’m supposed to annotate, but that killed like 2 potential productive hours for me.

It’s fucking game day. We’re probably gonna lose, but that’s okay, I sold my ticket. Haha.

7 pages on a mutha effin John Keats’s poem. I don’t even understand the essay that’s supposed to be on the poem, nonetheless the poem itself.

Fuck my life.

And we’re engaged. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Lately I’ve been struggling to find my true passion in life. As with most (if not all) college students, I’m looking for something I can seek after and increase my knowledge of and hone down the skills of in college and hopefully go on to attain as a future career.

Then I think of my high school self. More specifically my sophomore/junior self; the one that dove into anything social/culturally enlightening and committed so endearingly to.

I remember being so intent on changing the world. Having a strong sense of compassion for people, and saving society. I wanted to be the Clark Kent for the new millenium, promising myself that once I approached college, I’d chase after this keen sense of enjoyment I get out of implementing social justice and major in it and graduate with a degree that lets me go out there and save people.

And the inevitable happens. Reality strikes you. The receding economy haunts your every dream and you see yourself having to painfully alter your goals, snipping away at the certain fantasies you have for your future; until you stare at your cut out in the mirror one day and realize you can barely recognize the design you’ve just made for yourself. It wasn’t intended. It just happened.

I know it’s only my freshmen year, but let’s admit it, time is money, and with the ever increasing college tuition, one can’t help but feel the rush to find something pratical to major in, something that will let you tread the waters during a time of social and economic crisis.

Anywho, not to sound depressed or anything.

But, onto lighter news, there was a study abroad fair today in Mary Gates Hall and I think I might apply to go study in Prague for next summer. That’d be an inneresting experience.

My eyelids keep getting heavier with each paragraph of the text book I’m taking in. I’m finding myself having to constantly take a facebook/perezhilton break every 10 minutes or so.

I haven’t been religious lately…

but dear God, please let me do, at least, decent, on this midterm.

I hate multiple choice to the max. It just seems to follow me wherever I go.

I’m so back in the game. Haha.

Seasonal Affective Disorder

I think I suffer from it.

Fall and winter depresses me.

I need happy pills.

Being away from people who say stuff like this to me:

On the topic of wanting to grab coffee and catch up:

Veej: “Just whenever I guess. It doesn’t matter when. Just be like “starbucks, stat!” and I’ll be there. Where ever when ever.”

Veej: “The way I look at it is “when” doesn’t matter, eventually it will be history. But something has to happen otherwise this “when” wouldn’t exist. Take it easy amy.”

Note to self: coffee date, pronto.

My passion for writing has been dwindling these past few weeks. Months, perhaps?

Everything feels like a chore and is so un-enjoyable. Gaah.

marvinb:

Why would he put me in the near-death situation I was in a year ago at the hospital when I was healthy, exercising and trying to have a good life?

How about the millions of lives suffering today? War? Hunger? Poverty?

Why would he insert cancer cells in us to activate at any random moment? Does he find it amusing that we, imperfect human beings, can’t find a cure?

Let’s pray for a miracle to come soon. But what’s he waiting for?

Why can’t an all-powerful god change things instantly to save people of their misery?

But without your near-death experience, would you be the person you are today?

Who are we to say that we deserve all the good in life? And how can we possibly know the good in life if we have no understanding of the bad?