there is a storm forming in my mind
peek into the oblivion,
sneak a glance of the senseless destruction
hidden in these corridors.
These are the moments I live for.
Last night was definitely quite memorable.
Drove to Santa Barbara with several friends. Funny conversations on the way there about talking to girls, double standards, and a long game of do/dump/marry.
The VCN was good! Didn’t know my kind-of cousin was one of the leads HAHAh. Oh life. My VSA did “dance dares,” meaning, we danced behind different, unknowing individuals as many of us watched and laughed.
Afterwards, went to Freebirds, ate enchirritos, then loitered outside of the restaurant for awhile. We were unashamedly loud and rowdy. A random man approached us just to see what we were laughing about. He said people called him “Darkness” and he was an interesting character. Hilarity ensued.
Afterwards, a big group of us walked to their after party.. ‘twas fun, but I was so exhausted by the end of the night. Alejandro played the most perfect music on the long drive back. Sang along to the songs I knew half-asleep.
Perfect night.. Good vibes, good times.
Get out of bed at 10:50am.
The usual morning activities.
Find a sweet parking spot at 11:38am.
British Literature from 11:45am-12:45pm.
Eat lunch.
Attempt to read 160 pages before 4pm. Fail miserably.
Contemplate ditching Science Fiction class.
Go anyway. Fail the quiz.
Class ends early at 5pm.
Tell myself to go eat then work on a paper that was due a week ago.
Go converse with a couple friends instead.
Drive home without expression.
The apathy morphs into disappointment;
self-deprecating thoughts poison my mind.
I question myself. My actions. What the fuck am I doing with my life.
I ache with loneliness. Arrive home and stretch across my bed.
This is stupid. Stop complaining. Stop drowning.
It’s a waste of time.
Yet
still
I
drown.
I miss finding corners and cuddling up with my novels. I miss falling into different worlds as I turned the pages. Those lazy summer days, piles of books on my table waiting to be read. I’d go to the library and come back with at least ten different books and finish them all in a week. I read so much back then, and now I never read unless it’s assigned material. It’s a saddening realization.
