who do you think you are collecting your jar of hearts

you know what's really, reeeeaaaaally fucking annoying? when you sit around doing JACK SHIT for an hour because that's how long ago your project partner emailed you saying she was on her way over from her place in Lakeway (essentially the same goddamn place as Concordia) and wasn't sure if she had your number (bullshit. called me multiple times before.) and asked you to call her with your dorm number and you DO call her, she doesn't answer, you leave a message with your dorm room number, your cell phone number, and your two potential whereabouts (your room or Wal Mart), and whadyaknow? Bitch still isn't hereeeeeeeee nor has she called.... nothing. I COULD KILL A LUTHERAN RIGHT NOW.

That's really, REEEEEEEAAAALLLY fucking annoying.

it only makes it harder to live without it, but let's talk about it

I've been listening to the Beach Boys a lot lately. Thank you, Kellyn, for that. It's nice. Cheery, pop-y, good [vibrations] feeling music. But anyway. That was just to explain the title of my post. "Wouldn't It Be Nice" is constantly stuck in my head.


The semester is over.. technically. There's still 4 days of exams. I have one for Drama at 245 on Tuesday, a 10-page paper for American Lit. due at 6 Tuesday evening, a Short Story Final op-ed paper due by noon Wednesday, and a project presentation for Cognitive Psychology at 1230 on Friday. I'm good with all of it except the project...... my partner is such a fucking flake. I can't really give her too much shit, I haven't done a damn thing either except perpetually try and get her to commit to a time to meet up or at least talk on the phone or SOMETHING.

I forget why I originally started this post.
I wanted to say something. I had something to talk about.
I lost it, though.
I'll come back.

breathe out so I can breathe you in

I hate that 3 out of 4 times I come to Jacob's now he's already in bed when I get here or goes to bed before me. As soon as he's asleep, I'm alone and I feel like sobbing. I don't like being alone in someone else's house. It's not even that, I'm fine with that; I don't like being alone in someone else's house when I'm not the only person in the house. That's why I used to go batshit insane when I tried to spend the night anywhere - the other person(s) would go to sleep, I'd still be up, alone, with nothing to do but think. I hate thinking. I get sad. So now it's automatic to just freak out and go into horrible fits of crying and/or anxiety and/or depression that can sometimes last for days. I don't want to be here awake, alone, watching Foo Fighters ACL footage in HD (I don't mind that part, but I could be doing it at my house with my awake father), because I didn't come here to be alone; I came here to get away from myself - from my loneliness. And now it's being compounded. And I'm talking in circles because it's 10:40 in Pittsburgh so mom's not online and I have no one to talk to because everyone I know has friends and something to do on a Friday night besides talk me out of my neurosis. And even still, if there were someone to call to talk me down from my crazy, it wouldn't work: they're not here. I don't want to feel alone when I'm not alone. I don't want to be alone so I'm here..... alone. FUCK I'm crying. They're playing "Aurora" and it's so beautiful and that's what I wanted to name my daughter and Kelsey really liked the name. Fuck fuck fuck

You believe there's something else

to relieve your emptiness,

and you dream about yourself,

and you bleed and breathe the air,

and it's on and on...

I just kinda died for you.

You just kinda stared at me.

We will always have the chance;

we can do this one more time.

Hell yeah, I remember aurora.

All this time....

Take me now; we can spin the sun around,

and the stars will all come out,

then we'll turn and come back down.

You believe there's somewhere else

where it's easier than this,

and you see outside yourself,

and you buy the hole you'll fill,

and it's on and on,

On and on..

Aurora, wait for everyone;

wait till the last one's done.