It's weird being back at home...

As I fall asleep in the wee hours of the morn, I wonder... How do you go about gaining the trust of someone all over again?

Gahh... my gold is turning into rusty iron. I'm soooooo tired :C

Crunchtime.

Writing 7 pages of a final research paper that's due in less than 6 hours? I'm up for that challenge. I've been doin this shit since high school. LOL.

It's like the later it gets, the more I can feel my creative juices flowing, the easier it is to type out gold for my teacher to choke on when she reads it and realizes that I deserve a grade better than a C-. I'm feeling good about this. Really good.

Now as for the essays that are due for my Anthropology class later at noon.... I don't know about that haha... smh.

Phonecall, phonecall, it may have been better to not pick up at all....

So Sad

Everything's just so sad. I mean, there are the few small things that can make me smile like getting care packages from my family and spending time with my friends here and acting silly and dancing and planning what I'll do with all my friends from home once I'm done here and successfully completing a gift...

But when I stop to think about things, nothing's going right.
I'm behind. I'm overwhelmed. I'm tired. I'm worried. I feel sick. I'm unforgiven. I feel ashamed, like a failure.

I'm a good person. I know overall I'm a good friend - a great one. I'm a good student. But as of late I can't see myself that same way. It's like I can't seem to get myself to be the person I want to be, the person I know I can be. In academia at least...

I can hope that things will work themselves out, but I'm not so sure how much I believe it. I think I'm sort of just pretending like nothing's wrong. Except.. I know that a lot of shit actually is.

I guess I should just focus on the things that I do have power over and can change right now - my finals.
Right about now I just have to pull through and not fail anymore classes. Sigh.


I packed up the majority of my things yesterday. All that remains on my wall are pictures of good things, snapshots of memories that induce smiles. What will happen this summer? How can I go back to that house now? The room I once lived in is foreign to me. Its emptiness scares me. My future scares me. What will happen if I fail another class? Will I be forever marked as the failure of the household who wastes my parents' money?