Listen to what i'm saying to you....

I want to talk about it. Its not about him.

So last night I was sleeping, or trying to, and I kept thinking. White, ivory, or light blue? Bed linens. This anxiety is getting really bad. And before I went to bed I was looking up the course selection for next year. Freaked me out real bad. What the hell am I going to do? Man. And you know what's funny is that I try to talk to my mom and ask her what to do, but I know what she wants me to be. Its hard. Because who can you really talk to when everyone has their own adamant ideas about who you are going to be? So I'm posting it on the blog. Because I don't know what else to do, and at least I might get some comments. But then again, it could be just like writing to myself, which is a little comforting as well.

I don't know about next year. What if I get a roommate who's insane and kills me in my sleep?

Man I keep trying to picture myself grown up. Just so I can see who I am. But I don't see anything. Can you see who you are? Am I the only one? I hope I make it that far.

I hate trying to talk to my mom. She never listens. She always has the same thing to say. And I hate it. Tonight I will be up all night I bet. And I'll have to wake up at 6 tomorrow. GREAT. In a way I wish things were easier than this, and I wish I didn't care so much. Man, my parents must've raised me real good. Because I care too much, more than I should.

Fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK fuck fuck fuck fFUKCK

yES, LIKE A WHOLE LINE OF EXPLETIVES WILL HELP ME.

I keep remembering a day two summers ago. In a place I don't really remember, with people I didn't really know, and its sunny and beautiful and isolated. I wish I were there.