1. To be a good person always
2. To get through college and do as well as humanly possible
3. To find a major and career that helps me to help those in need.
4. To be healthy
5. To grow up and have a man that I am deeply in love with and a family with children and cats and maybe/probably dogs.
6. To have a good relationship with God.
7. To rid myself of irrational anxiety
8. To sing and play my guitar every day and improve

One thing I know about myself is that I worry myself sick over things that are very unlikely to happen but the chance alone gets to me. I tend to think that the one time where I take a chance and decide not to worry about it, something horrible will happen. It tires me out somehow. It does not help me accomplish these goals.

I am only human. I make mistakes and I often don't realize it until its too late.

I don't like judgemental people. But there is a very fine line between being judgemental and being on your guard.

I feel guilty very easily. It's very hard for me to do things that are completely self-satisfactory besides going shopping and buying new clothes. I'm not going to lie, this is relaxing for me because it allows me to reinvent myself over and over again. But some would argue:  Well, you are getting closer to being out of money, so that should stress you out. Or maybe that's my mind arguing.

Fin.

This is how I feel right now...

The woods and the trees are so vivid in my mind. The Notebook resounds in my brainwaves because it's just that intense. I trust Nick, but I am having a hard time executing everything because I just don't want to care who has been through what and where we've been and what we've done and I wish I could be free.

I think about Max's friend who just died...and that makes me wonder if I should live without inhibitions...and if I am even capable of doing that and still being effective. I am not in school right now. That gives me too much time.

It came around one morning when she wasn't expecting it. She stood up from her morning coffee and walked towards the foot of the couch where her laptop sat. She went to pick it up. As if nothing was wrong. She was alone for the moment. Her mother was upstairs and her stepfather was downstairs teaching himself how to cmmunicate with morse code. He wanted to communicate with people around the world. As if it wasn't enough to talk to someone face to face down the street. That statement sounds negative, I know. Although, walking down the street this day and age without any words and passing someone randomly carries more dangers than simply speaking to someone random at another random edge of the world in a random time zone. Because you yuorself are a person at random as well. And there are dangers in you just as there are dangers in others. But we must not have too much fear. But we do. This is why humans are so strange.

She looked around the room after setting her laptop down on the kitchen table. The room was traditional with lightly flowered wallpaper and photographs on the wall of her stepfather and his twin brother. They looked scholarly as they graduated from college in their prim and proper caps and gowns in such perfectly completed packages. Their bright, accomplished smiles revealed their self-satisfaction. It made her resent both of them. It wasn't fair. She had a few years to go.

She was ashamed of herself. It was her first semester of college. She wanted so terribly to prove herself and to be happy. She wanted to love and be loved. She wanted to sing and dance. And dance. If she could die dancing, that would be enough and more.

She had to be different. And amazing and new. That was what she wanted and that was what she would do. But sometimes, this felt so daunting. That was when this thing crept up inside. It said, "You are incapable and unintelligent. You cannot do anything."

She wasn't sure why it came on so strong. Maybe it was a trick that her brain played when it was tired. Maybe it was the result of the fact that she had to be capable because she had made it into college from her intelligence and she had to be able to do something. Maybe it was because her hypothalamus was shrinking because of stress and it didn't matter if she was straight-edge and did not drink. It was still shrinking. Her psychology teacher only had to tell her that once in class. Maybe it was because she knew what happened when someone got a stroke. It was luck of the draw which part of the brain died. One could be paralyzed or lose their mathematical ability. One could lose their fine motor skills or sense of tact. But one of the more horrible things was the inability to communicate via spoken language. She had seen videos of people with a disorder called, "aphasia". There were several different types but for the most part, victims of this disorder lose the connection between their brain and mouth muscles. It makes them seem unintelligent even though they are usually fully functioning beyond that.

She thought of the city and the millions of people. And the millions of lights and  the rich businessmen who would wake up in their lovely homes next to their beautiful wives and walk importantly down the busy streets and the colored lights of the immense billboards selling things and running lines of text above the banks naming stock prices on the minute and other news stories of sports and television and horrible things happening in Iraq. And to an outsider, this was the success of the working world. This was the pinnacle scene. Everything was fine and rushing along because everyone was lucky. Capable. Intelligent. Happy.

But as this thought progressed, she came to what she knew. Those businessmen might often wish they could be free from their conservative lifestyle, or the reputation at least. Some might even cheat on their beautiful wives with their secretaries. Only a fraction of the day is spent outside looking important in their cleanly pressed suits and ties. Only a fraction of these businessmen honestly believe they are important. Furthermore, only a fraction of those are seen as such. But most tragically, none of them know how important they actually are to the world.

She thought about herself. She was taking a math course for Business majors. She hated mathematics with a passion so deep, it could be driven to hell with a Ford Model T. If she married a businessman, she might grow to dislike him too. It wouldn't be his fault, but she couldn't have business math around all the time. This would be unbearable and inconcievable. Still, she wanted to know everything. And do everything. And she did not want to stop. Even if she was far ahead, she was lagging behind. Even when she knew where she was completely, she was lost. This was frustrating.

She got up to look for something to eat. It went away. All of it. It had broken. There was nothing healthy to eat, but it had gone. She went back to sit at her computer. With every step, she felt like jumping out of her skin with sheer reluctance to communicate with anything or anyone. She felt faint and went on thinking. Something new came on inside her  to replace what had been there before.

Where and what was this thing? Was it gone or had it come? Could she stop it from taking over her life?

Was it really so terrible?

[...to be continued]

And so I am in Philadelphia. The trip down was good for the most part. I feel so uncreative. Uninspired. It isn't like me. I am bogged down with stress and work. It is depleting my energy. But I really need to work. I shouldn't be writing at the moment, but I can't stop it. I am reading a psychology article about pheromones and how they play a role in sexual attraction. It's interesting, but I would much rather be reading The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, or this book that Dave got for me called The Road Less Travelled. *Sigh*

Going back to Brookfield was interesting.
Friday: A very odd day of recovering my dusty, tick-infested house but also spending time with Nick, which made things much better.
Saturday: Going home from staying at Nick's. Cleaning the apartment. John stopped by to say hello before leaving for Arizona. Sleeping over at Ronni's and reminiscing.
Sunday: Going to Church in the morning. Sleeping most of the afternoon at home. More cleaning. Hanging out with Brian and Brianna until 2:00am the next morning.
Monday: Sleeping most of the day AGAIN. Showering. Hanging out with Madeleine, Justin and Nick at the mall and then the movies.
Tuesday: Waking up early to pack. Visiting good ol' BHS and seeing millions of people. Well, less than that. A bit. Going to PA.

I barely made the train, but thanks to Madeleine, I did.

In this overcast afternoon...I feel as if I am a broken record, repeating the actions of my life over and over again. But in the light of Thanksgiving, I must say, I am lucky in so many ways. I've got love in my life from many angles. I will get through this college thing, even if I am the most stubborn, foolish, insane person this side of the Mississippi since Spam and sliced bread.

 It has been good to sleep all day. Really good. I enjoyed it thoroughly. 
Julia and I worked on the speech a little bit this afternoon. It is on why you should vote if you are a youth.
I am a youth. Not for long. Soon, I'll be old and decrepit. Well, relatively soon. But I'd rather do my part to keep the world young, so it can sustain me in MY old age. Does that make sense? I think it does. No wait. I KNOW it does. And you do too. 
I just ate a blueberry muffin. Eating and Sleeping and Eating and Sleeping. I'm so boring, it's fantastic.
Tomorrow, I go to Philadelphia! I have to pack and get more cash. I can't afford a train ticket right now. I need $10 more. 
This is ridiculous. I feel like a little kid. 
I really like Nick. I seriously have a hardcore "thing" for him. And it's not stopping.
I could fall in love with him. I need to give it time though. 
I want him to be mine. Because, well for one, I am a damn cool person. 
And he is too. Should I call him my boyfriend as of yet? I have no idea. I don't want to scare him off.
Or scare myself, if that's even possible. It's so confusing. 
And if so...I don't want to "break up" in the summer if I have to move. But I sense he might want that because of the distance. 
That makes me unhappy. I jump to conclusions though. I can't help but think about it. 
I just like him...a lot. And I don't want to lose him. And I know I am a bit young for him. 
And I am not his first love. But maybe he can make a place in his heart for me. 
Because I am a damn cool person. I may be a loser and a nerd, but DAMN IT. I AM AWESOME. 
Most of the time. 
Oh Lord, let this go smoothly...

Look at this phrase: "Falling in Love" 

Its usually interpreted as finding yourself in this strange and wonderful zone. But I don't know about that. 

I think it makes more sense if "Love" is a town. An odd town. You fall in it. You trip on the cobblestones and the stairs. You slip on rugs you stand on. You fall more if you make a move. Less, if you don't. But it's only less. You can't avoid it. There are earthquakes. It's unpredictable. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't go there.

I guess this is a boring topic, but I am a romantic person. I have written hundreds of poems about love. Most of them are pretty scattered. Ofcourse. I am going to sleep now. Studying until 3:00 am = I am the ultimate nerd.




"Be...and so on." -Quote from Mr. Hermanot's wall

 If anyone has ever seen Pride and Prejudice or heard 19th century dance music...then you know a good percentage of what is on my mind. I am taking a class (for credit!) that teaches dance styles of this era. It makes me want to go back in time to a point where grinding did not exist. It's so beautiful. The class is mostly girls and the few guys who are there were dragged into it by their hopelessly romantic girlfriends. Not that I blame the girls. I will say it again. It is very beautiful dancing. I had the class yesterday, but the music is so hypnotic that it's still in my head today.

I'm getting the craving for food. This would be my fourth meal of the day. I should wait atleast an hour or so.

I have a great amount to work to do. 

I think it is wise to take a nap.