Tomm's journal

So after D-ing the early midterm today, I'm left with a sense of hopelessness. I worry that I'll never accomplish anything. I suspect that all of my acquaintances here do not like me, but they do pity me. Am I charity work? Invite me somewhere, good deed for the week, minus ten years in purgatory? I worry that I have no right to be who I am. I worry that I'll never care about anything. I worry that I'll never be understood. And I hate I cannot be honest with a single person on Earth.

How do you open up to the person you fear doesn't respect you? How can I get any validation when the only support I get is from biased sources, the sources I don't trust in the first place?

I'm going to New York now to eat turkey, tip-toe around the dead grandpa issue, watch sporting events, avoid my hyperactive cousin, attempt to get projects done, and be straight.

I made a mistake today. I opened up to Daniel. It was one of the stupidest things I've done. We were getting along great, until I got frustrated that he wouldn't let me touch him (he has these ridiculous body issues). Just days ago, I nearly made him cry because I kept pressuring him, almost unconsciously. Not for sex, but for SOMETHING. And I told him I'd back off a bit. Two days later, I tell him that it's nearly impossible for me to do so.

It's funny, this entire role reversal. The one boyfriend I actually feel attracted to - both mentally and aesthetically - happens to also be the one non-slutty homo. Which is weird because he's staying in the relationship for my personality... I talked to him and it was awful and depressing, neither of us knowing what to say. And he felt awful for disappointing me, and I felt awful for pressuring him. Gradually, I unraveled and told him all of my fears and even started crying. He said we're okay now, but we can't be now that he's seen my crazy side (3 weeks into the relationship). And he hasn't responded to the text I sent an hour ago. And I just know the problem isn't over, and he's going to end up dumping me. I almost told him I love him. I don't know what's wrong with me. It could be the four hours of sleep I've been getting each night.

Or maybe it's the fact that I stretched myself thin academically, and now have to drop Japanese 2 because a "W" looks better than a "D". And I still have to tell my parents. Tonight. These were terribly stupid mistakes. I shouldn't have complained today and shown my inner beast. I shouldn't have signed up for 18 credit hours.

I went to the DMV with my sister to get our California Licenses by passing some written exam. I passed without studying. She failed by one question, and the guy let her re-answer a question because she's hot. Women have everything easy.

I hope it goes without saying that I don't really believe that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5qscOsp7Ko

I actually feel comfortable expressing my reaction to this Japanese trailor in internet slang: lolwtf. I think in a perfect world, this is how all pornos would start.

I saw Idiocracy. I don't know if it was a good movie because I was stoned, so it was amazing. I'm sure it isn't a great movie, but the premise surely is. It's kind of less funny than it is Orwellian... only scarier. Most likely future I've ever seen in a movie.

I had one of my moments after Jap 2. The ones where you have to duck into a residential area swiftly so people do not stare. Didn't last long. I feel like I missed a semester of Japanese. I went from A-student to stupidest student in the class. I was determined to ask my mother to hook me up with a psychologist, but by then, I was all peachy. It'll happen to me again on Monday... judging myself and trying to figure out what's wrong with me... might as well pay someone to do that for me.

Jesus class has become my favorite class because the girl who sits next to me hates the world like I do.

On a side-note: I don't really hate the world. I do want everyone to be happy. When I was little, I imagined God had a separate place in Heaven for serial killers to go whenever they wanted to hack up some people, and God would conjure some cyborgs that scream like real people. The serial killers wouldn't have to know that they aren't real. And the police would never catch them, but if they wanted it, they'd give 'em a good chase. I don't care about morals, really. I just can't get truly angry with anyone unless they forget that I'm human too. Or if I'm really pissed off. My personality contradicts itself too much.

The girl who sits next to me in Jesus class wants to start her own publishing company. I hope that's just a really cool coincidence and not indicative of popularity in the field - or any resulting copmetition.

I think the cool thing about Archaeology and subjects like it is that it involves very uncommon knowledge. You become an archaeologist, and you become an expert. You could see the world through your job, and still be interesting and have billions of subjects to talk about. No one will proffess to know more about archaeology than you. That's the one thing that puts me off to publishing. Everyone's allowed to form literary opinions, everyone can proofread. One could be a publishing expert, but that would not stop others from thinking they knew more about books...

In summary, would I rather do something that makes me happy, or would I rather look good and feel superior? That's a pretty easy decision.

So apparently, Eng 1C, 'critical thinking', will involve nothing but critically thinking about Jesus. The required texts include various gospels, the Bible, and the DaVinci Code. Side note: I love how whenever I state that I wasn't too shocked by anything in the DaVinci Code, someone has to ask, "You know that it was a work of fiction, right?" And I had gotten all my hopes up about meeting Jesus's descendant...

After my initial heart attack and a quick lunge for the bottle of aspirin I thoughtfully brought along to class, I was relieved to hear my teacher declare his distaste for his religion's (Greek Orthodox) view of women. I thought, okay, at least he won't try to slip holy water into my coffee. Then he told us he is not a religious man, but is very spiritual. I still don't know what the hell that means, but I imagine it's like religious bicuriousity.

As he gave us a detailed course outline, I literally felt sick. He kept on using words like "Evidence" and "Jesus" in the same sentence. He showed a serious lack of knowledge concerning Thomas Jefferson's religious beliefs. He told us that in this class, we would be reading and guessing what Jesus did and did not in actuality say. For an entire semester. Just a quick reminder, this is for an ENGLISH credit. not religious studied, not social studies, and not philosophy. I could barely stomach spending 1/3 of a semester in philosophy picking Jesus apart from an objective standpoint. But to spend a full semester treating the Bible like a self-contradicting biography is too much. I have to change courses. This was not in the course description.

And what kind of fucking English teacher has students read the DaVinci Code, anyway? Is that really the best he can come up with?

Oh right, I need to put something optimistic in here. I've finally gotten to Jane Austin. W00t! The only problem is that I know everything that will happen from watching clueless. I keep on shouting, "No, Emma, Mr. Elton doesn't love Harriet! Let her be with Mr. Martin!!!!" But she doesn't listen. I guess even if I hadn't seen Clueless, I'd still be shouting it...

I just saw 'Once'. A believable and all-around less Hollywood version of 'Music and Lyrics'. Loved it, and I need the soundtrack. I recommend it to anyone with functioning ears.

I'm replacing WoW with FFXI as my mmorpg of choice. WoW is generally a better and less frustrating game, but the people are nicer in FFXI, and the class system offers more flexibility and individuality. I also find it funny that no one has jumped to any conclusions about the race of Galka warriors, who have gigantic muscles, underwear consisting of leather straps, and reproduce without the existence of Galka females. And don't get me started on the race of cat-women.

Classes start tomorrow. I'm not ready, but I am at least not dreading the courses. Because my counselor was useless, I am signed up for three English classes, a Jap class, and an archaelogy class (which actually counts for a credit I need). Critical reading and comedy in literature should be fun classes (and useful for what I have in mind). I'm hoping that archaelogy class will involve learning how to fight Nazis.

I need to excersize a more natural control of my eyebrows. I think my years of practice with individual eyebrow control has rendered them awkward in day-to-day facial expressions. They make me self-conscious, and I don't know what to do about them. It feels like I'm sporting bumblebees on my face.

I was looking up some characteristics for INFP's, and among those listed was, "attracted to sad things". I was surprised by how true this is. It's the perfect wording to describe exactly what I'm feeling. I'm depressed because I haven't anything real to be depressed about, nothing dramatic or beautiful and tragic to ponder and draw inspiration from. I do find anything more cheerful than a bittersweet ending to a story unsatisfying. Maybe if I stopped treating life like a story, I'd be a little less worried about tripping over my lines in everyday conversation. Hmmm... how easy must I have it to WANT something bad to happen? And what do I want out of that "bad thing"? Am I going to stumble out into the rain, drop down to my knees and curse the heavens while an imaginary camera pans out majestically? What if the orchestra misses its cue?

Curse summer television programming.

I should start a private journal where I can stick this kind of post.

Due to motherfuck state residency, any classes I take within a year will cost 800 more than common. Either I take a year off of school and sink into a pit of boredom in training for years of alcoholism, or I my parents shell out gallons of cash to pressure me into good grades I know I won't attain.

I'm sick of my mindset. I've put up with it for as long as I've been alive, and I am quite tired of it. I can't think of any person without comparing myself to that person. And they'll always be better than me unless they mention a love of 'The Real World'. And I spend every minute alone just trying to figure out what's wrong with me precisely enough that I can fix it, instead of thinking about... life. This is why I never have anything to say, not because I'm shy. It's because every stupid cell in my brain is devoted to meaningless tasks. I've got a bad computer virus in my brain, one that causes me to occasionally self-destruct for no reason. Who wants to own that computer? A dried-up water lily in the middle of a pond. I found my voice, but the voice is stiffling my substance.

Okay, deep breath. I'm going to try taking life bird by bird. Step one: Jap Final. Everything else takes back seat.