Thursday, February 10, 2005

It never fucking ends.

You have one unheard message from the APA:

First time: nine months
Second: 18 months to two years
Third: three to Five Years
Fourth: the rest of your life

I don't really know if this is me becoming stable or if I'm just flying further and further out of wack. Moments of intense detachment followed by gnawing anxiety.

And the dreams are fucking weird. I'm either engaged in intense preparation for an elaborate cooking contest or am tying womn wearing net-like clothing to benches at the mall while they continually ask me to tell them that "I'm alright."

And the fucking dreams go on forever. Throughout my life they've seemed like really short snapshots that I kind of remember in the morning. Now I can recall long sequences of events in which I've spent the whole night getting intensely involved. None of which is bad, it's just really strange and kind of disorienting when I wake up in the morning.

I really shouldn't be travelling this weekend. I have a ton of homework to do, am stressed to Mars and back, and will miss my Gender class for the third straight week. However, it's my partner's senior year and he deserves every debate he can get before he graduates and can't do it ever again. After the Heart's over, we have a free weekend that will be spent doing non-stop debate work. The week after that, we have our district tournament, which will be really stressful. Then, during spring break, we get to goto CEDA nats and then the National Debate Tournament less than a week later. We might just go straight from one tournament to the next (San Fran to Washington). I don't really have any illusion of going to the NDT... I'd much rather go and just help Chris and Brian to break. Increasingly, there are a lot of debate rounds where I feel that the whole thing is kind of futile and I almost remove myself from really trying to win the damn thing. I just give up.

I'm so stressed and tired that I want everything to go away. I want a free weekend where I can relax, read a novel, watch a movie, and cook something nice, but it never comes. It's just the constant on and on and on and on, do this, do this, do this, that never fucking ends. Makes me want to burn all of my things in the street, drive away, and never come back. I feel like something in my head is about to snap. Fuck this shit.

edit: Now I'm sipping brandy and listening to Khonnor, some weird dream pop/new school shoegaze I downloaded last weekend while in Chicago. I seriously wish I could be just slightly drunk during all of the time that I'm not passed out from the fucking pills.

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