I left school yesterday after poetry class. I was panicked and a bit shaken. I haven't had to leave a place due to a case of the crazies for months now. I tried to write it off as low blood sugar, since I hadn't eaten and that can play tricks on a person like me who's too damn sensitive. I did feel better after eating. I was also home playing hermit for a few hours, though, and that's what really does it for me. Sometimes I wish I could just disappear into my bed and live life reading fiction and not giving a shit about anything but sunny days.
I have fucking class tomorrow. Poetry. Critiques. And I had the bright fortune of having my critique on a day when the prof was out due to emergency, so now I have to fucking repeat it. And everyone hates my poetry. So I get to relive that worthless experience. And I'll be hungry, because who has time to eat when they have class at 8 am. Which means I'll likely be a bit crazy again. And paranoid. And then I'll fall into a shame spiral and wake up in the fetal position in the grass somewhere clutching a tattered copy of my last-minute poem and weeping.
Oh. And then I'll never get a job, and I'll have to beg change off of people from my place in the grass until I grow old and gray and childless.
So tomorrow will be trying. I'll wear black for the sad occasion.
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2 comments:
Your need to swap that crystal ball for the new model. The internal illumination is much, much better on it.
It's nice when other people believe in you (I believe in you), but it's not necessary. Remember that very often, people "hate" what they don't understand. Those folks are to be pitied, not feared.
(I'm done with the soap box now. Glad -- very glad -- to see/know you're writing.)
Aw. Thanks, Ms. I was mostly just sort of making light of my neuroses. You say some of the things you harbor out loud and you realize how silly it is.
I didn't really bother me much the first time, but to have to repeat it- well that's just my luck. Lol.
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