Nark came a way too close to the truth in class today while using Thad's class as an example of a possible field for resentment. He finished off the comparison by saying it was stupid and I wanted to tell him that for once he was right on the money, but I didn't. *shrug* Thad's cool, but you can't let him get under your skin, it's a constant fight not to. I guess life in general is a constant fight to keep sovereignty of the inside of your head. I was up until six this morning working on the paper for Nark, but some people just don't go to class or just shrug it off. I wish I could do that. But I know if I let one plate fall then it won't be long before I'll let this whole balancing act crash down around me. My balance and coordination suck to begin with anyway. *little smile* I'd love to not care. But the thought of getting out kept me going for the last three-four-maybe five years, and here specifically was the dream that got me through the last year. I would have run away, or something, if I hadn't been coming here at the end of it all. So I can't screw this up. There are no second options. Tey keeps telling me I look really sick which I guess I appreciate as far as being concerned for me, but isn't helping me convince myself that I'm feeling better because I honestly feel like shit, but have so far remained too stubborn to miss class. I did find "the Devil's Larder" in the library today though. I didn't think they'd have it so I hadn't bothered to look it and saw it out of the corner of my eye while looking for something the computer swears they have (MIA maybe). It's sardonically lovely if such a thing may be. I'm supposed to be writing about a subculture, the coffeehouse of course, but I never know what to say about it. When I try and explain it to people I end up just telling strings of individual stories that are all linked and interlocked, most turning on things said thoughtlessly do to excess of alcohol or before thoughts could catch up with mouths due to excess of caffeine. *shrug* So it goes. I took a long sleep after Doloff's class.I think my mom called and tried to talk to me. I think I tried to talk to her. I can't remember what was said or how it ended, I just remember her saying I sounded terrible, and thinking it was nice because she hadn't said I actually was terrible.