02 February 2009

-CH2-CH=C[CH3]-CH2-(CH2-CH2-CH-CH[CH3]-CH2)2-CH2-CH2-CH[CH3]-CH3 = Phytyl

This is kind of how I feel today, yet considerably more upset than this. But I couldn't find a picture that combined confused and upset.



I've decided to try to use pictures and photographs as much as possible. I suppose they'll show my mood, or maybe it'll just be something that made me smile. It might get me writing better things again. Or at all. I don't write much anymore, and that's not good for an aspiring author.

I guess I should really start this post with the weekend. It was really great. Lisa and I talked and stuff a lot on the way to Potsdam, and sang in the car, too! It was so crazy and energetic. Until I fell asleep, anyway. I'm not really sure how it happened anymore...
When we got there, we talked and cuddled and hugged and ate and watched movies and slept in a bed apparatus that we constructed. It was wonderful to not have to sleep alone. Sleepcuddles are definitely the best kind.
We watched Blindness, which sounded really good from the trailer, but it turned out to be not very good at all. Or maybe it was just that I didn't understand it. I don't think any of us have quite decided yet.
I hated leaving. It happened so fast. Like a flash of lightning, and then came thunder, in the form of devastation, loneliness, and a feeling of almost dread.
I feel like I need to scream. Maybe at no one at all. Maybe at myself. This same part of me wants to go to bed for the next three months.
I said a while ago that I desperately need to work on my self-esteem. I tried. It's hard. I've gone no where. What am I supposed to do? It's something I'm hesitant to discuss. My failure to do anything useful about it makes me feel like a disappointment. Like when I studied for six hours for the organic exam and got a 75. Maybe I was just failing myself at that point. But this is exactly it. This is my self-esteem problem, written, right in front of me. I can identify it, write it down, think about it, dwell on it cry about it, but no matter what I do, I can't make it better. Why? Is there some... deficiency in my mind that prevents me from accurately addressing the issue? I have no idea. Maybe I'll have low self-esteem forever. It's these kind of thoughts that made me fear that someday, people will just get sick of me and I'll be alone. I hate being alone. But there I go again, I guess.
Journals are hard. They kind of force you to write things that are disturbing or painful, because they're meant for whatever thoughts come to your mind. I always feel like mine are incomplete. I close mine, and I feel like there's something more I should have written, but by the time I close it, I don't want to open it again. It's a weird philosophy, I guess.
Speaking of philosophy, in class today, we made philosophical punnett squares.
I guess I should go to bed, since I have to crapping work tomorrow. I feel like I'm working way more than I actually should I guess I kind of am, since all the problems I'm encountering these first few weeks are really time consuming. Oh well. It's moneys.

Today, Lisa introduced me to a friend:


He's adorable and fuzzy. I need to find a place for him to be happy.


We also went to Wegmans. Weggies for short and demented sounding if you try to pronounce it.

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