It's never too late.

And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

I realize that there has been a significant shift in my attitude since I last wrote. What can I say? I'm back at school.

It is a gorgeous day, I have to admit. I don't know what my deal is. Maybe it's how daunting all of my work is already. Maybe it's the terrifying revelation that time is already slipping away faster and faster in our last term together. Maybe it's that tonight was the first night I didn't dream about him since we've been back on campus. Maybe it's something altogether different. I don't know.

What I do know is that reading Proust isn't going to help anything, and that I'm sick of being this person. I don't want to shut out my emotions because that just proves to be even more unhealthy, but I can't help but feel like I'm holding myself back. A lot of things have been really great. I'm optimistic about my TA group. I've actually had some social time, and it's been really fun. But that part of me is still thrown off, and I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do about it.

I'm tired of my illusions. I'm tired of drifting. I'm tired of surrendering to them. But so far my only active response is to feel jaded, and that seems almost more disagreeable.

Maybe I should take this thing down. As long as I can, I feel I should shelter people from reading this sort of thing. Why turn myself into that seed that's spoiling more spirits by sharing?

Ugh. This is useless.

Numbness is preferable to disgust. If I'm going to be like this, I can't imagine trying to link myself to someone in good conscience. Even I don't want to be around me. How could I possibly convince anyone else?

What the hell am I doing?

At a loss at 3:42 p.m.