It's not just you, she loved me too

Ah! This is what it feels like to have a day off. This month is probably going to the be worst month of the summer. It's not too hot or anything, it's just... bleh. Things I don't want to talk about. The days have been made up of strenuous decisions that totally exploit my happiness. The nights have been spent restlessly with an absent mind. August, what's taking you so long.

Eric and Kate got here okay.

I have to say, summer in New York is amazing, but it goes by way too fast.

I ripped out some pages from my journal and lit them with my lighter and watched them burn on Makeda's ledge outside of her window with an awesome view of 5th Ave. I'm such a hypocrite. I just didn't want to remember the type of person I was. Which is the whole point of this blog, but I guess I only want to remember the good things. And right now, I have an annoying hive on my arm right under my left wrist. It makes me want to burn it with a cigarette... which I won't do.

Reading this one book gave me an unnerving feeling. Here's a long excerpt:

"Still cry different silver wonder four teacher were the words. "What do you think it means?" Ethel asked. Pickie seemed hardly to think at all before he replied. "Still because he still misses his brother. Cry to cry for him. Different because he is unique in his grief, though the absence of a brother is the commonest grief and the most essential loneliness. Silver for his brother's silver eyes, never to shine in the world. Wonder for the lost wonder of his iron sighs, and the miracles that died with him. Four is the perfect number- it is everywhere and has nothing to do with the message. Teacher because his bother was to teach him happiness and now it is a lesson he will never learn."

Killer.

I don't feel the necessity to explain because that alone can make any normal functioning human being feel like crap. And also this:

"She read the inscription on the back: You make me remember that I once knew people who were beautiful in their bodies and their souls."

Life should continue the way it always does, because it always will and all the changes are frivolous attributes that only add to our depression, and change alone is inevitable, but always an overstatement. That's what I think, but I don't think it makes any sense. My mom sent me all the financial stuff in the mail today. I guess I should tell NYU I'm not going back...

I was thinking. My parents have no idea what I do. I could drop out of college and they would never know. I guess it's good that they trust me, and since they do, I've been more open with them. I actually tell them stuff. Sorta. I love my parents though. They are the shit. But I will not tell them I'm in a huge debt.

I need to do laundry. Eric and Kate just went but I'm tired.