Rants

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I hate when I am studying and get nowhere. F the library I go to, it always gives me strangeness through my bodies. Probably the librarians who work all day everyday at a library and like it.

I'm struggling so much with everything lately, including communicating aforesaid struggles. I feel like a contortionist locked in the smallest square possible; reaching out feels utterly impossible. I know this is not quite classified as a rant; I hope its okay to put this here as I'm too shy to post elsewhere.

Dunno if I have much time left here. 5 1/2 years of membership means nothing to anyone else except me, hey?

even this place can be like a pack of hostile wolves sometimes

when you search for anna-banana's posts it gives you 'anna's.
makes me so mad

it's both a clever stalker repellent and a virtual elbow in the ribs of whoever was first to claim the "anna" username

a little hyphen goes a long way!

*this is not a cocaine reference

i can't stalk anna-banana. *rage*

I always go too far.

My mind has tried to play tricks on me, probably. I feel ill, but not sick. I have a doctor's appointment to talk about anxiety tomorrow, although I actually want to discuss the symptoms of my imagined disease. I might actually have a deadly disease, but I think that I probably have imagined it instead. I have a long list of tests papers and projects to finish, but I do think I can make real use of the skills I will master by doing my schoolwork correctly. The stress, though pleasant, may have triggered an unpleasant state of mind which resembled a melt-down when I tried to go to sleep last night. I freaked the F. out, quietly and privately, and tried to go to sleep despite the difficult and unpleasant images which slid before my inner eyes. I did not like it.

I have gone so far into this fantasy that I contemplated going to the ER at 4 a.m. I feel like I have excellent arguments for my delusion, and I just don't feel well, either, a tiny little bit.

Am I a well man who imagines he is sick or a sick man who imagines unconvincingly that he is well? That's a rhetorical question, actually. That sentence represents the bizarre distortions of reality which the verb TO BE allows.

I can't understand why I exist.

Feel like a failure. How did I get to a point of thinking so little of me? So wish I could just like myself. Probably shouldn't even be writing this, feel like a leper already.

Why am I guided by the way I look? Please sttttttop.

Sometimes i keep waiting for the hidden cameras to jump out and say ive been punk'd or some other crappy show, its hard to believe things can be this way.

...

grrr

As if having an infected finger wasn't enough, most likely I have a tonsillitis too. The workers who had to finish working on my windows today didn't show up because they got drunk yesterday so I'll have to deal with the mess they made all weekend. Plus, I have an exam next week that I still have to study for and that's gonna be so "great" with high fever.
I just wonder what else is waiting for me?
Talk about bad luck. FML.