who will save us...

I've found a new theme song.

This is the ultimate depressive/depressed song.

And yet another reason to love Cartel.

"We hold these truths self-evident/the lies we used to represent"

I'm already, not even at the end of September, to the point where I hate this life. Not all of it...there are bright spots. Pinpricked skylights, you could call them. And they really are pinpricks.

"Say the words and make them count...give us truth and nothing more..."

I feel as out of rhythm as they sing of being. So full of anger...And I'm tired of not being understood. The stamp across my forehead, the one that says "doormat"? Yes, it's still there, apparently. Nobody gives a bloody care. I have problems, I have stress, but you don't see me walking around biting off people's heads or being selectively horrible to people just because I can.

What about me says to people "Be cruel to me"?

This can't go on.

I'm close to hating everybody.

*headdesk*

stop.

I AM NOT A DOORMAT.

...so stop walking all over me.

-stop breaking girl code.
--stop lying to me.
---stop saying you hate me.
----stop taking your stress out on me.
-----stop making me want to cry.
------stop looking through me.
-------just...stop.

the psychology of Ohio, and other things...

Ohio needs a therapist.

Seriously...the whole damn state just needs one big leather couch and a 55-minute slot every week.

Sub-arctic this morning, now sunny and warm - is it just me, or does anybody else think God should have just started over when He got to Ohio?

Attention psychiatry majors, flock to Ohio and take up residence in all 88 counties. You will NEVER be out of work.

In other news...

Моя подруга Анджела = очень красивая и талантливая. Мой друг Саша тоже красивый.

Yeah. That's the gist of it.

..and I hate studying.

eh?

"Shannon..." From the couch next to me

"Yeah?" ...I lean over...

"Do those look like turtles to you, or like people with really big back tumors?"

I laugh. "Actually, like people with really big back tumors."



Funny that such a random and short-lived conversation could stick with me for the last four hours...Is there a disease where the part of your brain that overanalyzes everything grows too big for the rest of your head? 'Cause if there is I have it.

*headdesk*

south on 71

I'm thinking I'm okay.

Maybe I'm wrong. But that's something I'll have to deal with in the long run.

Everything seems to be coming together with regards to my future, at least with my career. I know the path, if not exactly how I'm going to get down it.

Model UN rocks my socks. Not going to lie. That there is a fantastic group of people that I am going to LOVE getting to know better.

As far as my personal life...yeah, it'd be nice to find someone to cuddle with. The joys of hugs and snuggles cannot be overstated. But I'm not about to go on some wild goose chase.

*complete 180*

My roommate's boyfriend is a douchebag. End of story.

And I'm too pissed off to even continue.

mental post-its

My darling Angeline and my brothers just left, well about half an hour ago, and I wish it wasn't too late to call them back and beg them to stay by my side until it was time for me to close my eyes and bid farewell to the night. I don't want to fall asleep alone, even though alone is the easiest way to say goodnight to the night.

Driving with Ang last night, it hit me that the last three weeks at OWU seemed like nothing more than the best dream I've ever had. Did I really do all that? Was that MY dorm room, were those MY roommates? Does that gorgeous creature exist, and has he really sat next to me, and hugged me, and called me "sweetie"? And am I really letting myself get all worked up about it?

I am...

I'm going back tomorrow, thank God. Two days was just enough to remind me that everybody here still loves me and still wants me around (from time to time), but again the push I needed to get me right back where I belong, and where I belong is in that dorm, in that campus center, in those classrooms.

I still wish I could have fit you in my duffel bag, Ang. The offer is open!

Maybe I can convince her to come to the "smart kid school" where she could totally get in. I mean, if Brian was able to scrape his way in then there's no way they'd turn down an ace kid like herself. She's got more brilliance in a hand than he has, and she knows what she wants to do. Plus, hello, experience! A portfolio says a hell of a lot more than does a semester of academic probation and a lot of empty promises.

Oooh, I'm sensing some covered hostility in Brian's direction. Maybe I'll explore that at a later date. Mental Post-it.

Many more mental Post-its where AD is concerned, as in a whole freakin' stack. Sarah says I have a chance and a good one, and she's given me all the damn aces in one hand to play, but do I hedge my bets and play it safe or should I go for it now and play for the big pot? (*hates gambling analogies, they're so damn tedious*) I have an idea, but is it even worth it to get burned? I hate rejection, and I don't know if I'm even willing to get shot down. What if she's wrong?

But what if she's right?

And why can't I just have the answers to the things that matter?

Now I know it's time to go to bed...too many questions and not enough answers by a long shot.

Ahh, home in the morning. Well, afternoon, but...a little more than 12 hours from now I'll be on my way back to Delaware and hopefully to a nice, eventful little evening. <3 x 1000