Falling Into Solipsism

gre general test and advanced psychology test and midterms two of them on one day and tons of homework and lab and people wonder why i don't have time and when will i start to work and yet i feel i am not doing as much as everybody else is somehow and i'm preparing applications to between 10 and 30 schools and i can't decide which ones and i'm feeling pressure and frustration and no right to feel pressured as my life is so damn easy and everyone else works hard and yet am i am working hard did i not do a thousand thousand different things and yet i'm a waste and i can't even write this thing legibly my writing sucks an admissions question asks for an essay about your two proudest accomplishments and i can't think of any accomplishment that a i have and b is worth being proud of. maybe i'm proud of graduating college but this is vile why be proud of that a it was easy and b is it even a good thing? to be proud of the number of times i've been laid, should i put that on my resume? or the books i've read or the movies i've watched or the blog entries i've written or the music i've heard or the opinions i have. what is me? or, more grammatically, what am i, or more accurately, what is me? to be proud of my puny vocabulary (somewhat expanded by recent studying)? to be proud of my selfishness, my total lack of empathy? to be proud of the weight i can lift or the miles i can run? what have i done? what have i done? to be proud of the length of my hair or the slogan on my t-shirt? the food that i eat or my hallucinations of ontological rationality? tell me. there is nothing when evaluated dispassionately but the people in it seem to feel something and it pushes them on. life looks like a don't think just do kind of adventure. does it make sense? no, hell no. but just do it and it works. success is the fruit of the stupidity vine. so is winning the game equal to giving in?

life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. - shakespeare in macbeth

spumy. what a word.

teacher in texas suspended for including cormac mccarthy's child of god in a ninth grade reading list. parents complained because of the necrophilia. these christian parents ought to remember their own child of god and the graphic displays of his crucifixion. why don't they censor that? and if you think it somehow is different because of some magical religious stuff, not this passage from steinke's jesus saves. "when she was younger she dreamed of christ's body. the holes in his palms and between the tendons of his feet, but not only the gross parts, the sexy parts too, his flat stomach, even his cock". there is a lot of competition in the market for "exploring the darkest limits of human degradation".

remember how my mind puts songs with boys? so "i wanna make love to ya, baby" is in one of my classes. and i met "dream boy", but last i checked he was taken. and i definitely noticed a trend where i want specifically what i can't have, but when i have something that reduces the need exponentially.

(me too)

talk to me people