The Lights Go Out and I Can't Be Saved

3:55 says the clock on the glass cage. Amongst the Chili Up sign and the Fountain Cafe, the Crocker Galleria ticks away as life continues on outside. 2:28 says mine. ante meridium, that is (and yes, I looked on wikipedia). Why does time slip by so quickly? Did I really do much today? The days seem long and tiresome. The alarm clock rings, and I scavenge for a few more minutes of warmth in the sheets, but soon finding out that the pace of walking to class has gone from casual to painfully brisk. Long unproductiveness throughout the late hours of the afternoon, avoiding schoolwork, but the looming workload gives a slight sense of depression. The late-night dinners coupled with mocha chip ice cream and fake cheese makes my insides want to vomit. But it tastes so good. 2:35. Why do I waste time? Why not work on the music presentation that I haven't start that I am supposed to give in 12 hours? Why not work on the 24-point presentation for chemistry, finding the useless answers to the magic of dryer sheets? Why do I spend time doing the things I do? But the truth is, I am going to remember not the properties of cationic surfactants, not the obvious effects of music in film. I might look back on tonight and remember how silly we were, how room 312 yelled 'yeeomp' three hundred and twelve times, how we were laughing our heads off while having the pictures of Steve's party face tiled on all of our desktops. But at least I'll remember.

36 more hours before I head home, going back to old friends to talk about the new. Sometimes, I get scared, feeling that I'll lose a lot of my old friends, gradually losing contact, scared that the new friends I make might not mean much in the far future. But I think I've found a placed. The challenge of college, the months of separation show how we all still stick together, and after realizing that I have no idea where I am going with this after Stephanie just asked me what I was blogging about, I am going to end this sentence right here and now. 2:49.

Stream of consciousness. T.S. Eliot. My fan's whirring unusually loudly on my lap, and I need to get a digital slr and a tripod before the next semester, knowing that I am going to take a photography seminar and that I am going to be co-historian for the great and awesome VSA club, something I am for sure happy to be a part of (sad that a lot of cool people are leaveing :'[). I think egocentricism is becoming a larger part of my life, hungry for attention (guitar skills come in handy). always in mind ((((())))). This stream of consciousness thing is hard, and realizing that my mind's blank, I just start thinking about thinking about nothing. Sophia can't finish her essay, and Mindy needs to stop snoring. (i'm kidding! she isn't!). Before I leave, I'll need suggestions for what to write about next time. And since the last of the leminees is going to bed, so I will end my blag prematurely. 3:04.









yeeomp!