home is where i wanna be, but i guess im already there.

I got an A on my Tibet paper.
BOO YAH

Done with that fucking paper.

Bored with school
Bored with doing the same shit every weekend

So sometimes I'm just talking to someone, and someone says something and suddenly I remember a dream I had. But the memory of the dream is overly realistic and it freaks me out. Like I feel as if I am back in that dream for a good 5 minutes.
Is that normal?

Things to do:
-Read Clockwork Orange
-Read Naked Lunch
-Read On the Road
-Go to the financial aid office
-Conspire to have a cat live on this floor of Mcdowell. With some help, I can do it.

There are such douche bags at this school.
I would probably like my global politics class if it weren't for the high concentration of said douche bags.

I'm in the terrace alone.
The breeze is constant and cool, and even though it blows the pages of my textbook around, it's okay.
Ah, to read Kant and listen to The Cure and finally have alone time.

Now that I've recorded this moment, I guess I'll get back to it.

1. Meet a guy
2. Think he's so nice and so cute
3. Find out he's gay

A little frustrating.

So now that I'm living on the east coast, talking is a little different.
My favorite new word is "sketch." Up here, it's used as often as maybe "cool" is. It essentially means sketchy, but it can mean so many things. I don't know how I lived without it.

It can be a person. Usually meaning creepy or sleazy.
"Well, he was nice and all, but I don't know, he seemed pretty sketch."

It can be an uncertain state.
"I don't think I can go to the party. My ride situation is sketch."

It can refer to discreteness regarding drugs.
"It seems a little sketch to be wandering around campus with a 10 foot bong.."

And so much more!

Me: Dad, what's it like raising teenagers?
Dad: I want you to get the fuck out of my house, but I'll miss you so much.

Camp Murray was perfect as perfect gets.

I feel new.
I went to tennis drills today. I thought of tennis in a new way. I look at my clothes differently. I think of my friends differently. Today I was remembering what it was like to be a junior, and it all seemed so distant.

I think I'm ready to move on.
I'm done smoking cigarettes, done chasing around stupid boys.

2 months and it'll all be realized.

(2nd person seems appropriate)
Have higher standards. Namely in romantic interest.
Run more often.
Stop smoking cigarettes.
Don't smoke weed alone.
Be nicer.
Don't fuck random losers.
Never define yourself by some boy.
Find new music
Finish cryptoquotes. Just starting them is really frustrating.
Cuss effectively.
Write absolutely everything down.
Jokes usually cross the line when they involve fluids (I forget this so much)
Be nicer to your parents
Don't forget what you've learned
MOVE ON
Double check
Remember this order: 1) Think 2) Speak
Drink more water
Leave work at work
Don't stop whistling. No matter what they tell you.

25 days till Camp Murray
46 days till Youth Camp
88 days till I move out

I feel like absolute shit.
I slept for about 14 hours last night. Fever dreams all the way through - many of which about Sean.
I have the Latin AP test today, beforehand us Latin nerds are going to brunch. I don't know if I'm up to taking it, though, but I don't want to make it up next week.

In theory, yesterday was my last day of highschool. But I feel such an obligation to Mr Stevenson, that I should go next week and sell copies like crazy all day. I don't know. It's really setting in just how much things are changing, and it's freaking me out to nooo end.

My tonsils are ginormous. Ew. I'm dizzy. I'm freezing. I want this to be over.

I feel like I need to make a big change. In every aspect, but especially the people I surround myself with..

All of Alex's and my mutual friends are angry at him. For a. dumping me and b. getting back together with his ex.
They say Alex is going be just as crazy and gross as she apparently is.
So I guess it's for the better. I guess I can do a lot better.

Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
Et quod uides perisse perditum ducas.
Fulsere quondam candidi tibi soles,
Cum uentitabas quo puella ducebat
Amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla.
Ibi illa multa cum iocosa fiebant,
Quae tu uolebas nec puella nolebat.
Fulsere uere candidi tibi soles.
Nunc iam illa non uult: tu quoque inpotens, noli,
Nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser uiue,
Sed obstinata mente perfer, obdura.
Vale, puella! iam Catullus obdurat,
Nec te requiret nec rogabit inuitam:
At tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
Scelesta, uae te! quae tibi manet vita!
Quis nunc te adibit? cui uideberis bella?
Quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
Quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis?
At tu, Catulle, destinatus obdura.


( In other words )

My dad is in the hospital. Nobody knows what's wrong. They're doing major surgery on him on Monday - until then he's waiting in a hospital bed.
If you pray, please pray for my dad and my family. We need it.

Dad is on his way to the ER
Murphy can't walk anymore so we're putting him to sleep today
I'm moving 1000 miles away in a few months

Jealousy is - by far - the most frustrating, useless emotion.