(no subject)

I am hate chemistry. Class boring. Professor not send e-mail with correct online sign up code. Want to do work but no work because wrong code. So now bored and download music.

*beats chest*

But forensics is going to be amazing.

Doldrums

I do not want to do work. I do not want to do anything. I am worried that moments like this will sieze me throughout life, thereby hampering me in anything I might choose to do. There are certain fields in which this is unacceptible, and medecine is one of them. What am I doing to myself? (I think) But what else can I do? Finish college with some major or another and instead of going directly to medical school... create that nightclub with Renny? Bring back the burlesque? Be indolent indulgant inanimate, inconcievably incomplete or insolently imperfect--an indignant indigent or innately inane? And you, my dear, can call me I? Perhaps I don't have the heart for a real profession, or perhaps I'm downright depressed.

I'm sure I'm depressed. I don't even want to play Guitar Hero. I feel like singing all the ballads on Karaoke Revolution with about two hours of sporadic liquor in me. Help me get back to the place where I want to learn. It scares me when the knife edge of my hunger for life is dulled, trying to cut through what won't cut. All it took was extraneous circumstances with my Chemistry Professor, the Pre-Med advisor, and James Taylor's "Something in the Way She Moves" to reduce me to a pile of unwilling muscles and aching brain.

I guess with the voracity with which I live... one can't expect to be on high all the time. Sometimes you have to crash. I just wish I'd crash when there was nothing else I could be doing. Like Chemistry. Or... I don't know. It's like I work all the time at everything and when I'm doing nothing I feel absolutely useless. Every day is some bizarre kaleidoscope of emotions that I find it hard to do anything about. I'm in a state. I feel like throwing paint all over a canvas, but I don't feel like throwing paint all over a canvas. If there was a canvas and paint and newspaper down right next to me, I wouldn't do it. Maybe I'll read.

I hate this. But I don't have enough energy to hate.

I don't even have enough energy to miss you. Just enough to blandly hurt.

I think if God came down from around the earth to tweak me on the nose and give me a pretty flower, I'd only smile a little bit.

And that's how I feel right now.

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Edit: (1:07am)

I don't want to spend every morning raring and ready to go, and every night tossing and turning, wondering if I've done right. Am doing right. Am right at all. Maybe I don't want to major in anything. Why am I learning things I don't want to learn? So I can learn other things that I am more interested in but that will keep me busy for god knows how long?

Fuck all businesses that make you choose your life at 19.

And fuck Chemistry.

I like forensic pathology, but I would hate crime scenes after a while.

Why can't there be a job tailored to me?

Why didn't I buy that Tylenol PM.

Why can't I move.