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This is a post that should be censored... |
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....but since I can't quite seem to finish concentrating on my paper long enough to get it done, I have to say something SOMEWHERE or I am going to implode. crying
I feel hurt.
It's not a conceivable thing, why I feel hurt. I..ah...really don't want to feel this way, and I really don't understand why I just can't grasp all the facts and accept the truth for what it is..... gonk
Well, maybe a little bit of explanation is in order. stare
I've been working on this term paper for about a week now. It has been important to me to get it done with more thought than my normal 'read, regurgitate, repeat, etc.' technique that I use on schoolwork. It's worked well in the past, and it should work well in the future....but I actually respect the teacher I am taking this class from, and I know that she really wants me to start thinking about the way things work, and not to just speculate on them, like I usually do. sweatdrop
So, I have been doing my best on this term paper. 3nodding
Now, the funny thing is, as with all things that I put so much time and effort into, I don't put much stock in bodily concerns. I.e., I forget to eat, and I forget to walk around, and I forget to do anything but stare at a blank computer screen and try to wrack my brains for the right thing to say. sweatdrop
Well, that's all and good I suppose....a lot of people go through physical hardship to get what they want...mine is more a result of forgetfulness than actual hardship, but... sweatdrop
Well, you see, my problem is that...no one seems to care. xp
Now, I realize that my best friends, my only two best friends are in quite a state of turmoil themselves with their job-hunting, and their home-hunting, and their attempting to find security in a world suddenly turned upside-down. And I understand this. And I have tried to be a good friend, and a shoulder to cry on...bar my own high stress level, that is, due to my own impending move and the end of the school year. sweatdrop
My problem, I guess, is that I can't seem to....umm....well...I can say something about how things are going. But no one asks me, out of the blue, how I'm doing. No one has called me (except telemarketers, of course stare ) for the last few days to see if I'm doing all right. crying
Now, this may be quite selfish of me, to want someone to care enough to knock on my door and ask how I'm doing. Or hang around long enough for me to get home so we can talk. Or to just have someone talk to me so I don't drive myself crazy in paper-induced isolation. And, really, it probably is. But I can't help but feel like I'm being ignored...or forgotten. crying
And, I really don't know why I'm posting this. It's only going to add another knot of tension to a couple of already over-the-edge and sick friends of mine. Probably.
But I needed somewhere to vent. And this is practically the only place I have left to me. So. Here it is in all its selfish, untainted glory. gonk
I'm going to find a corner to cry in now. crying
 Kira Dwenna · Fri Apr 22, 2005 @ 05:22am · 1 Comments |
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