everything except himself

So, I had a CHEM test today, and I really feel that I did very well on it. For only being in class for one lecture on these chapters, I’d say that’s an accomplishment. I guess, though, understanding and keeping up with the teacher is an accomplishment that anyone who actually attends class can take pride in, if they can keep up. I’d probably get carpal tunnel trying to write what I needed down before she erases it from the board. Though I haven’t been going to class, I did do the 13 pages of problems she sent out to us, and, rather than read the book, I looked online for explanations, since the book sugar-coats chemistry as something you have to understand and skimps out on the actual application and repeatability part; I don’t like the textbook.

In other news, I dry heaved acid this morning and my fever disappeared, so I think I’m good now. I had trouble tasting breakfast, but I’m glad the fever is gone.

I was really sick over the weekend. I’m better now, though. It was a fever among other things. I learned that my radio/alarm clock no longer works like it’s supposed to when I tried to set it to 9AM. I suppose I have had it for a long time, though. The volume knob doesn’t work right anymore; you have to fidget with it to get it to work.

So, I had the station set to 90.1, which is the National Public Broadcasting station here in Georgia. They play classical/instrumental music all through the night. I probably listened to it for an hour or so. It made me want to start playing the keyboard again. I need to go through and find all my sheet music to start practicing with again. The papers are scattered about my room, since I have a few on my art desk and a few on top of my dresser. Honestly, though, I’d like to play a real piano, but I suppose it’s pointless if I don’t really play all that well to begin with.

I don’t know what the hell got into me yesterday. I mean, yeah, some stuff happened and all, but I feel frustrated with myself for the way I acted because, damn it, it’s just easier to face rejection by not facing it at all. Who I was yesterday was pretty damn weak, though, and I don’t like it. I feel like, whatever good there was, I went and dashed it all on the rocks yesterday in one great hour-long throw. I feel about 3 feet high right now.

Honestly, it’s tough for me — rejection. I had thought I was doing the right thing, and then the whole thing crashed in on itself. Acts that seem noble are just cop-outs in disguise, I guess. I’ve learned my lesson, even for as confused as I still am. What really fucking disappoints me about myself is that I already know what I’m supposed to do in a situation like this and that’s the only thing I didn’t do. I’m such a relationship fuck-up. It’s not even funny…

So, what the hell was I supposed to do, you’re wondering? I was supposed to be there for this person, because, now, damn it, her life’s that much more complicated dealing with me when it doesn’t need to be. I’m not supposed to be another item on the list of the things to cry over — I’m supposed to be fuckin’ support, and I fucked that up royally yesterday. Today, tomorrow, whenever can be different, but yesterday will stain my mind as well as any stain your clothes could get from coffee. I should have fucking realized it. I had all day to think about it, and I fucking ignored her.

So, slugger, what’s your ingenious plan for fixing this mess? I’ve come up with 3 general things (let me know if you have suggestions). One, quit being a self-centered bastard. Two, show her that I fucking care, as opposed to acting retarded like yesterday. Three, fucking listen when she’s talking; I mean it’s pretty damn tough to hear anything when all you’re thinking about is yourself. I think that covers everything, though. I already apologized, but I doubt she understood why then. I’m pretty sure this will clear it up. Now, I’ve just gotta quit acting like a fucking kid and fix the problems I’ve made where there shouldn’t have been any. 19 fucking years old and I’m still a kid inside. I need to take the GTFU-101 class, majoring in “Grow the Fuck Up.” Damn.

You were never one for ritual,
And, for you, absence is quite habitual.
You are more so in the gaps
Than along the planned lines of maps.
Had I failed to meet you there,
I would still cast this world a cold and icy stare.
Expand my life like the open sky!
I have truly lived and now can die:
Kill my worthlessness
And suck the heat from my address!
Obliterate my anger
And leave me at peace there!
Bring the darkest parts of me to light
And make me right!
You, for whom I condone,
Do not leave me alone.

Fate apparently likes to set me dancing with Death. After getting caught in traffic on a road that should have only had minimal traffic (Six Flags, fire your GA management! They are clearly unqualified.), I continued with my commute to school. About 3 quarters of the way to school, I start to smell gasoline. There were lots of huge diesel trucks around, so I wrote it off as just being proximity. Ah, but how close was I to the problem, really! I look down at my gas gauge to find that it was hugging the yellow “E” line, where I had had at least half a tank before I left the house.

At this point, I’m alarmed. I usually remain calm through anything — and I did through this, too — but my heart was beating like someone in one of those awful, low-budget horror films. So, I pull into a gas station, and I fill up my empty tank. The numbers on the screen that tell you how many gallons have gone into your tank had gone past how many gallons my car could hold! I look down behind my car to see a trail of gasoline. Looking under the car, I can see it leaking into a puddle.

Now, Death pulls me in for a second dance with the fury of an incensed lover. I start my car up and drive off toward a service station. My tank is nearly full. It’s an old car, maybe the gauge just isn’t working. It’s leaking; you saw it! What are you thinking? The gauge is still going down. Maybe it’s nothing. Only half a tank already!? Red light. Was that smoke from under the hood? Green light; red light. That’s smoke from under the hood! Who the hell wants to hear Kurt Cobain right now!? Then, safety — I had reached the service station.

It turns out that my fuel line had become disconnected. One of the guys working kind of looks at me with this “Why are you still alive?” look and says, “Yeah, that could have been dangerous. I mean, it could have caught fire.” So, the line having been repaired, I was back on the road. I swear, Death was riding shotgun, grinning all the way.

Other things are infinitely more fun than college. What was I thinking? Check it out: Pattern #009.

So, I had a Chemistry test today. This makes #3 for the semester. On the first one, I did really well. I didn’t study for #2, so I didn’t even bother to pick the test up after it was graded. Now, for #3, I’ve been studying off-and-on for 2 weeks now. I feel angry at myself for not doing all of the problems that she gave out to us in handout form. 3 of those were on the test today. I guess I shouldn’t lament until I see what my grade is, but I already know I missed 1 or 2 of the multiple choice questions. Again, upset because I read the answer in the book when I read the chapter, and then, on the test, I couldn’t remember. I must have value assignment/impact assessment issues.

It’s times like these that it feels like my mind will swell like a balloon and burst. I feel like my mind is a leaf in this world-sized toaster oven, dried up and just waiting to be stepped on by some devious child’s stomp. I will probably look back on college with a sigh of remorse and self-loathing. It’s been my responsibility from Day 1, really, and I ought to have taken it like Atlas, since it was given to me in the same way. The critical issue here is: Can that make me happy (i.e. is achievement in college something that is gratifying to me)? I suppose that it is, since I’ve written all this. I think I will try giving up on things aside from college, until I can manage my time properly to fit them in.