Thursday, February 24, 2005 // 12:15 AM

mundane
barnard's long rant today only served to depress me, the way ma does, some times, asking to me reconsider for a last time whether i want to switch into science, telling me how useful it will be to study economics as opposed to theatre. nice to be so frequently remined of how i am choosing a life of abject poverty as they would have me believe, so that i may slowly start getting used to it.

or sell out, he says. more and more im coming to a place in my mind where i cannot say for sure, that i am going to barter a mundane sort of happiness for supposed meaningful-ness, qualified indulgence on a most-days basis.

my ankles are close to shot from soccer training, but today was fun because i guess of how few of us were around. i really like the soccer girls, they're a very casual kind of people. i suppose it might take that much, for us to swallow our embarassment at how lousy we all are and actually give the game a shot.

dingo called me angsty today, so ive reread all that's been written in the last few days. angsty is not something that i associate myself with anymore, perhaps, my matter-of-fact-ness reflects words that are better suited: jaded, cynical. i'm not saying that this is an unhappy state of being, i'm perfectly and mundanely happy if i would have you believe. all these people thinking that i'd still daily consider slashing my wrists, it's something close to half a misunderstanding.

i would only say something like, days when i'm upset don't count, because my very right now is not.

there's a silliness to everyday that i sorely miss. michelle, shufen, xinhui. heehee. stupid laughter is underated, i really believe in that. because some times i make faces at people for no reason, the only person right now whose reaction tickles me is jill. heh. i would like the chance to take myself less seriously.

everybody gmail me mp3s please. like sam has, about eight of them, nothing spectacular. listening to old favourites like wallflowers, pink floyd, give me something to stay up for.

by the way. i dont care what marvin said, american history x was a Very Good Movie. the first five minutes i am battling to drown out his voice in my head, going on and on about what a gp-ish movie it is, how specifically calculated, all about racism. save for a long phone call from daryl that killed off the effect of the end, for me. almost everything about it was incredibly alien, completely intense, new convert or edward norton fan.

kevin's going to tell me all about computers, big ha ha ha ha ha. stupid little science genius now tells me he wants to do humanities, that he'll give me ten bucks if we're still talking when we're forty, really working the heartstrings here. hurhur. i think the brainwashing has at least somewhat worked, because i am almost fully convinced that i am on the wrong career path.

tell me so that i can run away! i have a syndrome that i dont have a name for. calling it a syndrome distances myself from it, makes it seem like something more chronically complex and simultaneously boring than what it is: a nervous twitch reaction, some sort of knee jerk. hello this is my dogged uninvolvement with all things of this sort, i dont even want to talk about it. i just want to run around retarded swap sarcasm trade trivia philosophize, intellectualize. with you, the (affectionately) stupid retarded person that you used to be, to me, once. if i thought you couldn't take my fondness, i would have given you something else.

just give me a lot of time, a swimming pool full of water. cry bitch laugh patronize. how fittingly melancholic, i laugh at you and your dedication to intrigue. the things i write and the way i write them, the way you might never understand. my dear girl i am doing this all for you.