Censored

Egypt is on fire. Like a hound, I can smell the blood churning and boiling. They want a Revolution. My, my, my, what a cost.

What a rough day. I'd love nothing more than to have classes canceled tomorrow. It hasn't even been a week yet, but there is something dragging me down. I love my classes, and I am excited for my seminar tomorrow. Seriously, what a good semester class wise, but...I don't know.

I'm a grumpy pants probably because I am sick. Also, because I have realized maybe my formula is wrong. Either way, I give up. I will not place effort into things that should be effortless. I love you more than a sister, and I hate how you keep telling me you only see me as a sister, a 'little sister'. I wish things were different and I wish you weren't in love with your girlfriend. I wish I had taken action our first year of meeting, but I didn't know! However, it's not a sexual love, but a possessive one nonetheless. Pursue me! I hate always being the one to ask you to meals and events. I hate being the sumissive one. I just want to curl up next to you guiltless and blissful. No sex, no nothing, just sleep. Ahh, pfft. I will mend my time plugging the holes you have left within me with people, places and times. History, a story of the past, moves forward. Even crawling, I am moving.

I am tired, and worn out. This weekend has left me torn and ruined. I don't regret it, but I am only as strong as I believe I am. Belief and faith are running out, quickly.

I'd like to be weak, just once. I'd like to be carried, just once. I don't want sad stories with sadder endings, I don't want your tears, your fears, your scars and burns. You all are greedy, your hands upon me as though a feast; and yet you all avoid the scars littering my skin from the constant cutting disappointment that accompanies EVERYTHING. I barter, but still bleed. I'd like to be weak, just once.

The only idea that entertains me is from taking astronomy this semester. Looking at the universe, the idea that wherever you are, where I am, has an incredibly small chance of having ever occurred. What I am doing now, the clothes I wear, what I type on, what I say, and feel, the fact that I just AM...it's too overwhelming to explain. I like that.