Crush

Today I discovered the power of pressure. I completed 2 pointless assignmnets, and wrote a sonnet in 5 minutes, impressing my profs, my classmates and even myself, to a point.

Honestly, though, today was a bitter one... Though I got those assignments done, I got some back that were less than I expected, and as well, I didn't get the job I needed. A pox on Campus Security! I can walk, what more do you need??

I've been feeling suffocated of late. A combination of overworked and underappreciated. It makes me... angry. And anxious... restless, like I should be doing something to fix myself, but I am simply unmotivated. which is rather strange... you would think a dissatisfaction with one's life would provide the motivation to make changes, but it doesn't. It falls under learned helplessness. I studied it in my first year. When, no matter what someone does, the results are continually negative, eventually the person just gives up, stops trying, and "lies down". Takes their beating without question of why or any struggle. It's sad, but it's true.

I've tried asking my friends for help, but they're too caught up in their own (and to an extent eachother's) lives to have the time or patience to help me with mine.

I'm sitting here, my room a mess, dishes un-done, papers scattered, debating a glass of wine. Just to ease my tired muscles and give me a reason for that stuffy-brain feeling. I need to do laundry. I want to go out... When I started here, I adopted a relativly lax attitude, that things would be fine as long as I had people around me. for some reason, those friends seem to have developed fair weather-feathers. As soon as they have one assignment, or "Signifigant Others", they fly off, and I don't see them again until Exams or their next 10 free seconds... Maybe what I'm lacking is that attention these people in love have. The have an automatic, 24-hour best friend, source of affection, sounding board and comfort-dolly. All I have is this blog, and my fish, Ferdinand, and he's not the affectionate type.

I also realized tonight that I've stopped writing again. I stopped before, and when I restarted, I managed some interesting stuff that I deemed "pretty good" (high praise for myself). Now, I'm being forced to write for class, and I feel... clogged. Like there's good stuff there, just that there's something else in the way. I've felt like this before, on many different levels... it seems a bit bigger now. It almost seems tangeable, that I should be able to physicallt "pluck" this thing away and move on, let my energies flow... but I can't see it. And I realize that it staring me in the face as we speak. I know that it's right there... I just can't get to it. Yet.