Dandy Warhols - Last High, The Dope
Weezer - Pink Triangle, Photograph
Cassius - 1999
Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence, People are People, Personal Jesus
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts - Victim of Circumstance

Man, what a day. I ended up falling asleep around six in the morning and sleeping until around eleven. I was glad that I had already taken a shower so I could just get dressed and go. My first destination was to the college to drop off my essay and ask whether I even got close to what the assignment was. I parked, extracted my backpack from the trunk, and walked towards the courtyard. I could see Molly was in a class, so I headed for the student lounge. The first person I saw through the sliding glass door was Joe, so I was all “Oh cool.” But then….in the shadows….lurking…WAS ANUS FACE!!!! EEEK!!! HORROR!!! So I just kind of kept walking, and took the long way back to my car. He is freaking stalking me. First we saw him at Buddy’s, then at the college (he had NO reason to be there). Disturbed, I drove to work. Some people yelled some vague insults at me from a car as I unlocked my door, and I was all “I can tell it’s going to be a bad day.” I’d known it since the night before, but I was resigned to my fate. Driving to work, I found this sweet song by Weezer “Photograph” which was all poppy and happy and it totally got me groovin’ so that I was happy when I finally got to work. Amazingly, nothing bad happened at work and it was just a normal day. I was very surprised.

After work, I jumped into my car and immedately turned on that cool song as I drove back to the college. Luckily, Anus Face had gone, but Tawna was all “omg omg omg.” Apparently Anus Face told her to tell me that I had “pretty hair.” Somebody’s come crawling back. How fucking sad. But anyway, Tawna and Joe were in the lounge and we were bored so we decided to go to the beach. I consulted my handy dandy tide chart that I had photocopied at work, and it was supposed to be low tide. Like, exactly low tide. So I put on this funky song, “1999″ by Cassius and we continued on towards the beach. It was really low tide, so we should have been able to see the starfish orgy (don’t ask) but it wasn’t there. Tawna walked down the beach while Joe and I climbed upon the big vegetation covered rock and talked for a while. We amused ourselves in picking off parts of the sandstone and throwing them at an adjacent rock. It was pretty fun. It wasn’t too beautiful of a day, but we had fun anyway. Joe and I lamented about how there aren’t very many athletic people in our group of friends, and talked about how much we love things like hiking. As we were climbing down from the rock, I remembered this strange dream I had. It was a TV show episode in my dream, some show like Family Guy or Sealab… but there was one very important difference. All the characters were played by the actors in this German porno that I had been watching the night before. It was really weird.

But anyway, me and Joe had set our sights on an even bigger rock, this one with three or four trees and a buttload of vegetation. We all piled in the car, and drove to the next spot where you could get down to the ocean. Tawna walked around the tide pools while me and Joe journeyed onward to the Rock With Much Vegetation. It took us a while… a long while, actually, but we finally reached the rock. I was elated. We climbed up to the top of the Rock and there were all these little paths and such. It was all level and grassy and beautiful. We were able to see our other rock from this one very easily, and I was all “We are the masters of the rock!” It was totally cool. We tried to show Tawna that we are on top of it by waving our arms and even shouting her name in unison, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect. We really couldn’t tell which tiny blob of color so far away was her. She did end up seeing us, it was that in unison shouting the did the trick. Me and Joe left the rock and journeyed back to Tawna. As we were leaving, Joe was all “Why don’t we go to RayJen [coffee company]?” I had no objections, and once he mentioned that he had never been there before, I was all “We’re going.” It was getting kind of dusky as we reached RayJen. We went inside and with much hesitation ordered. I got a small white chocolate mocha (my favorite) and biscotti, everyone else got some kind of coffee drink and biscotti as well. It was DELICIOUS and the atmosphere was totally cool. A while after we had finished our coffees, we decided to head back to the college. I parked, and we soon realized that we didn’t want to get out of the car. We do this a lot. We listened to cool music and people watched, it was glorious. Lol, I heard Molly use “glorious” today. I thought that was cool. We talked and hung out in the car until 6:35 p.m. I was sad to see that it was over. We had so much fun. At the beginning of drama class, I handed in my essay to Molly. “It was blood, sweat, and tears, but I got it done,” I said.

We started reading ‘Night, Mother today. It is a very interesting play and I’m dying to see how it ends. If I wasn’t totally exhausted both mentally and physically, I would totally read the end. Well, I guess that’s it. Joe’s car is very close to being fixed, it will be cool when he has wheels again. Me and Joe the night of the movie night were talking about how much we love road trips, we should totally go on one. Like, to Portland or something. Or San Francisco. Anywhere but here. It would be incredibly fun. I love road trips. Journeys are so… cathartic. Well, I must be getting to sleep. I absolutely love this voice recognition thing. My wrists are saved! I think that assuaging my wrist condition was worth the thousand plus dollars that I have poured into my computer. I love my computer.

Just got out of the shower, and the prospect of going to sleep is looking less and less attractive. I’m still pumped up on caffiene. I doubt I’ll get a wink of sleep. God, I am going to be so exhausted after work. I’m going to be exhausted for class in the morning. I know it already: today is going to suck. There’s no escaping it. The only way I will even be able to attempt to make it through the day will be through massive doses of caffiene. I hate days like this. But at least I got my essay done. I hope I did it right. I think I’m going to lie down for a while and at least try to rest. I think if I fell asleep now I’d sleep until the afternoon.

I am incredibly tired, but I finally banged that damn thing out. It came to 1,520 words. Is that bad? I think that I will just pass out if she says “Oh, it’s a 1,000 word limit.” I’m hoping at least for a 50% F, which is much better than a 0% F. Oh I’m so tired but I can’t go to sleep or I’ll miss class but I have to go to sleep or I won’t be able to do anything at work tomorrow. Okay, I’ll take a shower so I can get up at eight-thirty and get three and a half hours of sleep. More like three hours, with my shower-taking “speed.” I should get my final draft out of the printer and edit it. God I’m so tired. I hope I hope I hope I hope I hope I get a passing grade on this thing, I spent so much time on it…this is a blood, sweat, and tears paper. God, I can’t believe I did it. So tired. I hope I don’t sleep through class, that would totally defeat the purpose of staying up and finishing my paper. Oh well, I’d better proofread that draft, take a shower, and get to bed.

I just finished the paragraph on style, and I can’t help feeling like I’m doing this thing all wrong. It’s all my fault, since I missed the peer review and haven’t really given it a second thought until now. Oh well. I have 10,000 times as much confidence in knowing what I’m supposed to do with this assignment than than that incredibly vague theme quiz. It took me an hour to do the style paragraph. If it takes me an hour a paragraph it’s going to be six in the morning by the time I’m done with this thing. I don’t think I can last that long. There are limits even to what caffiene can do. The really sad thing is that I want to understand this stuff so bad, but I just can’t. I don’t have time. I’m either at work or recovering from work. I hate my life. But I’ve already bitched. I’m at my wits’ end. Actually, my last post was my wits’ end. I’m even further now, dangling off the precipice. I doubt if I’ll finish this. I doubt that I’ll pass this class. I doubt I’ll succeed in anything that doesn’t involve procrastination.

I just started the analysis part of my essay, and I’m reaching meltdown phase. You know when you get in that mood where you’re so angry and exasperated with the world that you just want to take a baseball bat and destroy everything in the house? I’m getting there, if I’m not already there. I feel the intense need to break something expensive. It would satisfy me in the deepest level to take my baseball bat and reduce my computer into a pile of metal and silicon. However, it’s not the computer’s fault that I am a failure. Either I do this essay or I resign to failing my English class. It’s one or the other. I MUST NOT FAIL. I must suppress my Neanderthal impulses to destroy. Motherfuckers. It’s almost two in the morning. I can’t deal with this. I just can’t. But I have to finish. There’s nothing else I can do. I have to finish this. I have to finish this whether it takes me all night. I MUST. I’m just afraid that I’ve used up all my creative juices and that no matter how much more tea I drink I’ll still be brain-dead. It’s times like this when I wish I was dead. The sad thing is that I create these situations with my laziness and stupidity. I hate how I put things off, I hate how I have no time to myself, I hate how I’m always tired, I hate that I hate my friends, I hate my classes, I hate America, I hate this world, I hate my dad, I hate my computer, I hate everyone. I hate this disgusting filthy world that forces me to work twice as hard as all the lazy stupid fools who get everything handed to them on a silver platter by the government. I hate living from hand to mouth. I hate being constantly poor and constantly hungry. I hate living on my dad’s scraps. I hate this essay. I hate this assignment. I hate my life. I hate stupid hypocrites who tell me I’m going to hell. I hate the ones who like me too much to tell me to my face. I hate people who are in love. I hate people who think they are smart. I hate myself. I hate corporate America. I hate the TV. I hate Crescent City. I hate rich Republicans who will never know what it’s like to be hungry or cold. I hate it when my dad won’t let me turn on the heat. I hate it when he doesn’t go to the store and I have to eat toast for weeks. I hate when I procrastinate. And most of all, I hate it when I complain about things that are really my fault. Fuck you, you good for nothing piece of shit Darius. You’re no good for anything. You say that you’re so fucking smart but you’re stupid. You’re stupider than Liz. You just say that you’re smart because it makes you feel better. It assuages the fact that YOU ARE NOTHING. YOU ARE SHIT. Your dad never loved you and all your mom wanted to do was control you. You tried to find “love” which you didn’t even believe existed, and you got your heart broken. You knew it was going to happen, you fucking idiot. What the fuck were you thinking? I hate you. I wish you were dead.

Wow, that was depressing. I didn’t know I had that in me. Who would have thought a botched English essay would be the catalyst for such catharsis. Oh well. Fuck the world. Hate and love are really the same thing…so I love myself? Kind of? I can’t make myself believe any of that bullshit. There is no such thing as love, just hate. But I guess it’s better than feeling nothing at all. Back to my essay, I guess.