Sooo tired, but less depressed. Nap, work, nap, read, nap, write, nap, eat.
I have to have to have to start writing fiction soon. These poems are great and everything, but I have novels crystallizing in my head. I hardly feel like a writer anymore.
I am the ninety-degree angle in a right love triangle. I held hands with a boy and I'm afraid it was a mistake. I have so little self-control about these things, but it's cloudy at night and you're tired and tipsy on top of a slide, so what else are you supposed to do? At least I didn't kiss him.
These things keep you up at night and drive you mad, but in a way it's kind of fun. I was with Thade for so long and didn't get to experience these ups and downs, these dramas. Maybe the dance is enough. I think I need to be no one's girlfriend.