College life is, well, not great.

I'm transferring next year, I'm pretty sure.

I'll hopefully be transferring to Southern. I've done most of the paperwork, now I just need to see if I can scrounge up the money to go. If I can get the money, I'm going.

I haven't really told anyone that yet. I wanted to make sure that I was definitely leaving before saying it. But it's looking like the future now.

Megan, as a roommate, is an interesting creature. A lot of what she does annoys the shit out of me, but we have nice moments. Especially now, since I am officially friendless here.

I want to write about what's going on with Mary and I, but I hesitate because I don't want to say bad things about her. Even now, for some reason. I don't want to be mean. I just don't. But I will say, as far as I'm concerned, we're not friends anymore. At least, not the way we used to be.

And I also didn't want to type what's going on because I'm scared someone will try and contact her and ask her about it, you know, try and get her side of the story. No one really knows we aren't friends anymore except Megan and Sarah, and that's only because they're close (distance-wise). But contacting her would be the last thing I would want. It wouldn't help and it would just make things messier than they already are. Not that anyone really reads this. But I just wanted to make that clear.

I just, I wanted to get it out there. I'm sad and I needed to express what I'm feeling.

I've been dealing with a lot of things. I'm sad a lot, and I'm angry. But I'm in the process of letting all of that go. And I already feel ten times better. Anger and sadness just doesn't suit me well.

It's a shame I'm leaving here, because I like the professors. I just don't like the actual people that go here. They act too much like the kids did at my old high school.

At one point, I wanted to drop out and travel. But then I realized I didn't have any money or plans. But all I wanted was to let everything go, and just live a little. I don't feel like I've lived at all. I feel wasted. And not the fun kind. The pitiful kind.

I told a couple people this, and they told me I couldn't drop out, that it'd be a mistake. And I wasn't going to do it anyway, but I just wanted someone to tell me I had a choice. That I was in control of my life. I suppose I don't, though.

I've been told that I'm cute. And that I'm pretty. And that I'm adorable. That's well and fine. But when people call me those things, I feel, well, first I feel like they're lying or kind of blind, but then I feel like I'm six years old. I'm 20 now, I'm supposed to be a woman. And a woman is beautiful. Not cute. Oh, well. I just thought about that today.

Beautiful was the very first long word I learned how to spell. I think that's kind of beautiful.

It's 4 am. I have an 8 am class. I might not go, though. That's the only part of college I like. Skipping classes when I want. But I don't even do that very often cause I'm too afraid.

Oh, well. I felt like I should update this. It looked kind of sad all out dated.

Still hoping for better days.

New Beginnings

So I've started writing this story with Jules, one that's already half finished and kind of developed, but the girl who was doing it with her flaked out on her and she really wanted to finish the story so she asked me to help her, but i'm terrible at writing fiction, i guess she must have been desperate, but I decided to do it because I want to get better at writing in general, which means fiction as well, but I'm kind of scared because there are already these people who have read this story that Jules and that other girl have written so far, and review it and love it, but Jules said not to worry too much about it cause it's not that big of a deal, in fact, someone told me that all you have to do is write something down, she said, I guess to make me feel better, but it didn't, it made me lose a bit of motivation, and it didn't make me any less scared, strange readers on the internet can be uber critical but so far they have been really supportive of me stepping in for that other girl, who they apparently adored, others were honest and said they were disappointed that Jules had replaced her, but said they'd give me a chance, and I was like, okay, that's good, I guess, that they're going to give me a chance, and I really like the story that they've written so far, so it's easy to jump in and write the way that i'd like to see the story go.

And I saw Inception today. Argued about the ending with my family. It was a little confusing, so I sort of lost interest a little and got a little bored, but the music made it exciting in a way, and I was on edge the entire time because I was still semi-aware of what was going on on the screen and for the majority of the movie they were running out of time, I just wasn't as invested as I thought I should be for a movie. I thought, what am I feeling, excited boredom? That's an oxymoron, for ya.

I've been feeling a lot of guilt about the littlest things lately. Like, I'll be snippy to someone or I won't spend enough time with someone, and I'll feel bad about it for a long time. So I've been trying a little harder to be more involved in the world lately. Watching what I say more carefully.

My dreams have gotten really specific. One time it was so bad that when I woke up, I thought I was still dreaming and had to check my phone to realize where I really was. I remember them in so much detail, I've been looking them up to see what they mean. So far, they've all had a pretty common theme. I'm losing a part of my true identity and feel out of control of my emotions. Which isn't great. But I don't think I can do anything about it. So I'm not going to worry about it.

On a lighter note, the dream interpreter site can be pretty entertaining. One night I had a dream I had lost my wallet and this is what it started out with,

"To dream that you lose your wallet, suggests that you need to be more cautious and careful about your spending and finances. You need to be more responsible with your money."

I thought, okay. That makes sense. But then it when on to say,

"Alternatively, losing your wallet, indicates that you are losing touch with your true identity. You are experiencing some anxiety over changes and uncertainties happening in your life."

Then I thought, okay, that kind of makes sense too, in a way. But which one is it? Because I'm terrible with money. But the other one makes sense too, because I'm going through a lot of changes. Curse you, dream interpreter. You have confused me even more.

Another realization before I go. I found out I have a slight social phobia. Which, if you know me, makes COMPLETE SENSE. I was self-diagnosed, sure. But I looked up the symptoms and I felt like I was reading my brain out on paper, er, screen?

Listen to this,

"Social phobia (also sometimes called social anxiety) is a type of anxiety problem. Extreme feelings of shyness and self-consciousness build into a powerful fear. As a result, a person feels uncomfortable participating in everyday social situations.

People with social phobia can usually interact easily with family and a few close friends. But meeting new people, talking in a group, or speaking in public can cause their extreme shyness to kick in.

With social phobia, a person's extreme shyness, self-consciousness, and fears of embarrassment get in the way of life. Instead of enjoying social activities, people with social phobia might dread them — and avoid some of them altogether."

THIS IS MY LIFE. I hope now that I know what's wrong with me I can do something about it.

Growing too fast.

I registered for classes a couple of days ago. I was excited. I felt like a college student.

But that got me thinking about the future and being on my own. All alone.

Then I started thinking about how bad I am with money.

Then I realized how much I'd hate to be poor for the rest of my life.

Before all this I thought I'd marry rich or something, I don't know why, though, because there's really nothing about me that a rich guy would want. But I thought I'd live a comfortable life with my future husband while I got to write and dream and someday make a little money off of my work.

But this week got me thinking that I should probably stop thinking like this. I need to take care of myself. In every single way.

I've also learned that I need to enjoy the time I have now. It's the only thing keeping me sane.

I think it'll be fine.

Or, at least that's what I'm hoping for.

Remembering.

It's funny what you remember when you're lying in bed at 4 am, sick and starving because you ate food, just the wrong kind.

I should have looked at him when we were dancing. Maybe then he would have told me that I looked pretty.

I want to write so bad I can feel words on the tips of my fingers burning to get out. I just wish I had some motivation. I wish I had more faith in my work. But I just end up hating everything I write down.

I'll keep trying, though.

Time to Think.

I was really dreading summer. Like almost so much that I couldn't stand the idea of it.

But I've come to realize summers have made me who I am today. All the constant time in my head, alone, has made me crazy. But I like to think it's the good kind of crazy. The kind people can laugh at. And the kind I can laugh at too.

I'm kind of okay with who I am.

Not entirely, of course. But I like to think I like myself more than some people I know.

I think a part of me knows I won't be doing anymore changing for a while. I'm pretty much stuck with myself.

I do wish that I could change my perspective on some things.

For example, I wish I could realize that it doesn't matter how much weight I carry around my stomach or my face or my arms because deep down I know that's not really the problem that I have. I've seen plenty of people get passed their insecurities and find people that are good and who are good for them. There's something else that's wrong, something I can't see yet. I just hope that I can figure out what's wrong soon enough. And hopefully, I'll be able to fix it.

Having too much time to think isn't such a bad thing now.

I just wish I had more things that I could read.

And Another

I can't wait for this day to be over.


I'll Find Something Better

I would marry you for your family.

You’re sugar powder
I’ll breathe in,
choke while you trip
into the wrong hole,
and then stand up again:
surprise me with your stamina.

Swerving off the road,
I’ll laugh;
you’re a joke I’ve heard before.

I’ll get sick spinning
on tire swings
not made for us,
grasping its ropes
like it’s holding us together.

Another

We love in holy positions.

You catch a glance
of my profile
I pray you won’t notice
my stubby nose
flattened from years
spent in Junior High,
drilling stares into quary tiles,
my head on the desk in study hall;
hope you won’t be put off
by my protruding upper lip
cascading, noticeably condescending.

“Do you think he likes me?”
she’ll weigh me down
with her answer
like leftover spaghetti at 3 am,
put me back where I belong—
dreaming of broken tiles
locked in the second floor bathroom.