I can't tell you who did this to me

I'm here. Sitting here. Attempting to will myself to study more pointless jibber jabber that had any relevance in the 90s, that I am now supposed to see as useful today. The more I realize I need to remember, the less I care due to its futility in even trying with most classes I take these days. The last A I made on a test was probably a year ago. And although I haven't stopped my trying, the information I attempt to soak up ends up just bouncing off my brain like a worn rubber band.

These last few months have let me finally get to know myself. If you had the displeasure of knowing me a year or two ago, I am sure I came off as a jittery, self-less mass in tight pants.

I am quieter now, and can see things more clearly. Even the painful things I couldn't bear to let myself take in, I can now at least admit to myself.

I am forever in a state of dis-ease, torn between the responsibilities that root me in the here and now, and the wonderful, painful, beautiful earth that surrounds us and begs us to come outside. Chaos can't punctuate my days, no more than letting the pulls of the environment I am paying to be in can completely control life.

And on that note, I know I am a flake, in every sense of the word. It is just that I hate spending my day being tied to a schedule, seemingly letting the gorgeous day pass me by.

I don't know where I was going with this. Just keeping the blog beating and such, I guess.