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< shut the fuck up | posted at 10:24 pm on November 03, 2004 > weekly update time.i am fucking sick as a dog, will get my period next week, and the awards are on next wednesday. seriously screwed. and before that, a three thousand word essay on totalitarianism, and after that, Biggest Issue Of The Year Deadline Week and in the middle of all that, a photography assignment due. and i am sick as a fucking dawwwwwg. things need saying, but i lack the human emotion needed to say them. i am casually kissing the boy from the floor above mine, but i won't tell anyone that. i'm single, for all i care, but i won't kiss anyone else. I won't tell anyone that either. i got insanely jealous when he was talking to my flatmate yesterday, he was here in the apartment and didnt even say hi for an hour or so. i left my door ajar so i could hear what they were saying. then as he was leaving, he knocked on my door, he said that he and my flatmate didn't think i was in because my shoes (as they usually are) weren't outside my door. for some unknown reason, i'd taken them in my room. i don't want to like him, because he's too young (barely a month older than me), he's not 'my type'. but dare i say it... i just can't believe i got so jealous last night. at work there has been hullaballoo in preparation for the awards next week. i still have a great lack of things to wear, and i'm SICK AS A DOG. i can't be fucked, to do anything. i'm hitting that wall, everywhere i turn, i hit that wall. i bet my boss doesn't realise that the words of wisdom he said to me one night when we were waiting for something had so much impact. he said 'one thing i know is that you need a lot of time to find your place in the world, to find out what you have to do and who you are. and the best thing to combat not knowing is just to power ahead, not care, not think about it. because that's how you find out. but some people can't handle that' i said, 'is that what happened to you?' and he said, 'yeah. i couldn't handle it one bit.' i wonder, what is 'handling it'? am i handling it now, or is this hell? fuck it all, i still have at least 500 words to write on this essay before i go to bed. kids in those countries don't have time to think about handling it. they just have to stay alive and fight for rights. so, just tell me to fuck myself and shut the fuck up now. those last five |