May 15, 2002
Waste
I feel like shit.
I realized that I have no money saved for college.
I realized that it is like I didn't work at all this past autumn.
I realized that I can't expect my parents to help with school at all.
I realized that I have to stop loaning my mom money everytime she cries.
I realized that if I don't get someone to cosign the loan, I won't be able to afford school.
I realized I won't be able to go.
I realized that there is a point where I can do more, and that it is entirely in someone else's hands.
Whose hands?
No one's hands.
I am tired of worrying. I am tired of caring. I am tired of being poor and not recycling and credit card bills and library fines and bad music videos and late nights and bad tempers and ignorant boys and ignorant ideals and silly metaphors and waste and ramen noodles and talk shows and cats and pool noises and checkbooks and blue shirts and clammy hands and racing hearts and wants and needs and people and hopes and dreams.
Especially hopes and dreams.
Because it is all just a lie. Maybe I won't go to school. Maybe I'll never get a book published. Maybe I'll never fall in love. Maybe I'll just be writing in this diary in ten years without a word of satisfaction and all of my years will mirror this one.
A waste of fucking time.
astera at 10:57 p.m.