Keep Runnin

There's a girl who keeps puking and it's gross. I would be more sympathetic had I believed she was really sick. I don't think she is. She and her sister room in the suite I had last year, a beautiful room corrupted by two crazy whacked out white girls. I don't like them much. Sometimes the older one screams and screams profanities, and they fight and claw. I can imagine fur and hair flying, like two rabies infested mangy street cats going at it. No one liked them much last semester; they were loud, rude and out of hand. The older one took Russian with me my first and second years here; I found her annoying and quite rude to one of our professors. Ugh.

Well, apparently they've been puking/screaming all week and weekend. Somethings not right. Perhaps one of them is pregnant? Or simply stupid? No, the stupid is a given, the pregnancy a waste. Oh well, let their lives unfold as they will. They'll get theirs somehow, someday.

Today was a long day. I had lab which seemed to last forever, and yet I wasn't able to finish it due to some technical problems my partner was having. Oh well, I really hope it doesn't affect my grade.

I am low today. I am tired and a bit overwhelmed. I have a lot on my plate to figure out.
Academically: my thesis, my sociology project, midterm papers, readings, seminar readings, research, student liason business and events for CST, understanding astro, getting my spring project together for Intouch (which, by the way, I had to start all over; no more GEMS, I'm focusing on getting a Planned Parenthood discussion together).
Socially: some grounding, some organization, some understanding, some piece of mind, some proof of feeling.

I am agitated as well. At what? Who knows? I feel clogged and trapped; I never meant for my life to go this way, but how can I even say I meant for it to go anyway at all? I didn't expect for it to be like this, and I didn't think I'd feel like academia was so big of a sham. I am waiting to get inspired and driven; I am jealous of those with passions and ambitions. I am lazy, perhaps, or maybe a little sad. I just want to feel alive, feel the blood running in my veins, in my head, for me to actually get excited !!!! about something, someone, some dream.

What are my dreams? I can't recall any more. Shit, do I even know who I am? The face in the mirror is a new one everyday, and the words that spill out of my mouth are foreign like a language I don't know. I never meant for it to be like this, and yet, it is.

Hope. It echoes in my head like some sort of salvation: hope. I don't have any. I have nothing but my hands and feet. Now is not a time to feel sorry for myself, but I can't help it. I am afraid, technically, of everything. I'm so used to feeling disappointed and sad and am so bruised from it that I withhold some emotion, withhold from giving just to prevent feeling at all. I am constantly in the fetal position with my hands over my head; even walking to and fro has my mind crawling into the corners of my skull, hiding and whimpering. I am on the defense.

I want you to knock my walls down, and I'd like to enjoy a dream where I'm not constantly fighting for something.

What a shitty day. I hate self revelations and evaluations. People are shit, everything is shit.
I'm going to bed.