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Faltering...
May. 23rd, 2003 03:33 pmDamn it all.
Why should I bother. No ones life will be better by this shit. Freudian, fairy tale quasi poststructuralistic feminist crap.
Locked up for hours, days, weeks. If I see any more microwave food I'll give a new meaning to projectile vomit.
What evidence do I have to claim intelligence? I feel like a fraud.
and damn PMS - three letters that diminish inner doubt, crankiness and sorrow to something utterly puny.
And damn relatives.
There is this thing you mess up with a long time ago, when you're basically a teenager, involving money. You spend a fair amount of time in your young adult years paying for that, trying to make up for it. When you finally think you have done this, the relatives object. I did the bank thing, all is altered, what's mine is mine, what's theirs is theirs. But now they know. Not answering the cellphone from certain numbers right now.
And damn emotions. If I surgically removed let's say 40% of that, and..perhaps also toned down part of the intellect (the analyzing part)..what would be left prominent then?
Perhaps a sense of humor. Although not sure.
oh yeah..and some of my friends thought I'd be neat as a archivist, one year education for those with some kind of decent degree. Was rang up by a woman from that department today. They want me to come and do some kind of test for that, wednesday. Now they tell me! I must dodge work again somehow to be able to attend. And I don't even know if it's what I want!?
(Don't know what the test is about, but she said that no preparations were needed.) Apparently there are lots of ppl out there dying to become keepers of archives. So that should be my future, that or teacher...
Why bother. If this thesis don't go down well, nothing of this will matter.
Ok, that's enough. First the projectile vomit thing, spread out over myself for being whiny, chicken shit, indecisive, moody, and having the nerve to develop emotions the way I have right now and in this manner. Then head for the scalpel, if no one will make this surgery on me, then I'll go for it myself. Let's see...the center of emotions..and there..analyzing part of intellect...
Why should I bother. No ones life will be better by this shit. Freudian, fairy tale quasi poststructuralistic feminist crap.
Locked up for hours, days, weeks. If I see any more microwave food I'll give a new meaning to projectile vomit.
What evidence do I have to claim intelligence? I feel like a fraud.
and damn PMS - three letters that diminish inner doubt, crankiness and sorrow to something utterly puny.
And damn relatives.
There is this thing you mess up with a long time ago, when you're basically a teenager, involving money. You spend a fair amount of time in your young adult years paying for that, trying to make up for it. When you finally think you have done this, the relatives object. I did the bank thing, all is altered, what's mine is mine, what's theirs is theirs. But now they know. Not answering the cellphone from certain numbers right now.
And damn emotions. If I surgically removed let's say 40% of that, and..perhaps also toned down part of the intellect (the analyzing part)..what would be left prominent then?
Perhaps a sense of humor. Although not sure.
oh yeah..and some of my friends thought I'd be neat as a archivist, one year education for those with some kind of decent degree. Was rang up by a woman from that department today. They want me to come and do some kind of test for that, wednesday. Now they tell me! I must dodge work again somehow to be able to attend. And I don't even know if it's what I want!?
(Don't know what the test is about, but she said that no preparations were needed.) Apparently there are lots of ppl out there dying to become keepers of archives. So that should be my future, that or teacher...
Why bother. If this thesis don't go down well, nothing of this will matter.
Ok, that's enough. First the projectile vomit thing, spread out over myself for being whiny, chicken shit, indecisive, moody, and having the nerve to develop emotions the way I have right now and in this manner. Then head for the scalpel, if no one will make this surgery on me, then I'll go for it myself. Let's see...the center of emotions..and there..analyzing part of intellect...
