Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters
socratic

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Woke up this morning and my head was all stuffed up, so forgive me if this entry is a bit lame. Or a lot lame

School is winding down and I'm going to have a lot of time to myself soon. No more schoolrooms no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks and all that. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Thank god I have Hee-Ann's class to teach or I'd be in danger of going crazy. I think that I'm about to have to face a very difficult truth, which is that I can't do the things that I need to do by myself. I'm going to have to seek out some sort of organized (or semi-organized) activity in which to grow on a personal and intellectual level. To be frank, that terrifies me. I hate the fact that I have to open myself up to rejection by a group of strangers, but I guess there's no "Grow intellectualy and personally in a completely non-judgemental environment" club at Columbia. The problem is that most of the people who will stimulate me are competitive and confident. I am neither. This is probably going to hurt, at least a little. Possibly as much as this summer's mistake did (and still does a litte.)

Hooboy.

I'm actually a little lonely right now, which is strange because yesterday was kinda busy and I hung out with a bunch of cool people. That usually fills me up with enough social contact for half a week.

I'm a little disapointed with how Art Class ended. The last class was basically entirely on Picasso's "Les Demosielles (or however you spell it, the pitchure of the brothel)" and I hate that picture a bunch so I was irritable and fidgity. We also didn't get a break so it was 2:05 straight through which drained me. Too bad, I got a lot out of that class and I think the instructor was quite good. Too bad the last image she's going to have of me is a wierd kid making a desperate attempt not to get overwhelmed and run out of the room.

I wrote earlier that I would probably have to choose between being brilliant, bitter, and alone against being normal and happy. I'd like to revise that and say the choice is more between being brilliant, bitter, and alone and being normal, depressed, and alone. Honesty dictates that I must admit that despite all the progress I may have made I still don't ever see myself entering an intimate and comfortable social space.

Thanks Dad, for teaching me the lesson that you can never trust anyone with your heart. Not even them what bore you.
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