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Asleep God, what I would give to be an obsessive perfectionist again. Where did that go? I'd kill to go back and find the exact point in time I turned so apathetic, and give myself a swift, hard kick in the ass. I want to come home crying when I have a 71 in algebra 2, not celebrating.Dig, dig, dig. Fill the shovel, toss it back, bury Hope. Bury the chance of getting out of this godforsaken pit of the country, where classmates check the 'highly offended' box by interracial marriage and the 'not offended' box by mandatory prayer in schools. My ticket out of here is disappearing as quickly as the points dropping away from my grades. A few inches closer Waffle House waitress every day. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Fucking procrastinating lazy moron. Here are the facts: I am smart. I am screwing myself over. The last time I felt truly awake, I was running on caffeine. I should not be constantly tired. I care enough to care that I'm not caring, and that's about it. I have nothing to be sad about. I'm not sad. I just don't care. You know what people do when they feel like this? Ecstacy. That's what they do. And they string themselves to bridges and jump, and they beat people up, and they dance, and they have sex. I'm too tired for all that nonsense. I think somewhere along the line I've turned 40 without realizing it. Goodnight. 2004-03-15 @ 11:00 p.m. |