This is the Sound of the Brain Dying.

Song of the Day: Do It Alone by Sugarcult

Just a couple more weeks and this torture I call school will be over. In the meantime, I would rather go to the rack than have to answer another chapter question, make a speech, and/or write a paper. These next two weeks will not be pleasant and I will be feeling that procrastination that I started at the beginning of the semester in the worst places. To make my attempts of getting away from those papers and assignments complete, I took on the position of Assistant Stage Manager at CP's Miracle Worker. Why did I do this? Now I only have a few hours in the afternoons to do my research for two presentations and a geology paper. What's even better is that not only do I have last minute assignments to turn in, I'm also getting little to no sleep since I've been getting home at 12 every night (and going to bed whenever I fall asleep doing three pounds of homework). If I didn't know any better I would think I was in the second layer of hell.

Yes, I have projects and papers and presentations and homework and then exams and Miracle Worker... Though thinking about this brings me down I look to the weekend and I'm happy! This week has lasted a month and I've been looking forward to this Saturday and Sunday since last Sunday. Really, this week hasn't been good-- but tomorrow I'll be going to Statesville for a To Write Love On Her Arms benefit/concert. It's going to be great. I get to hang out with people I like and listen to music that I [might] like. And then I have Sunday! I love Sundays. Truly. Surly. This is the one day I allow myself no worry.

Summer: I can't wait. Granted, I will be working and I have a math class to take but exciting things are going to happen. Cornerstone. Camp Quest. FCP. Greatness.




Everyday I attempt to live the life Jesus did. Usually it doesn't work. I have this thing. With people. I don't like them. There's one of these people in my class who I cannot stand. Cannot. This time it isn't just me-- no one else likes him. And I try. Really. Really. Really hard to not say things to him, about him, or around him because those things that I will say will not be what Jesus would have said. As I'm leaving class today he follows behind me and says something.

Can I be honest? I don't talk to him because I will punch him. I've said maybe three things to him this semester and all of them were sarcastically mean. I'm a terrible person, I know.

"Heading to work?"
"No." Why he is talking to me, I don't know. I was saving him by staying away from him.
"There's a rally for Hillary Clinton tonight-- you want to go?"

My whole body tightens. Who... who in their right minds would vote for Hillary? I am thoroughly offended that he would think I approve of her. I am also shocked that he has the nerve to ask me to go with him. Anywhere. Thirty million words popped into my head. All thirty million of them would have made him cry.

By a miracle of Jesus, all of those sarcastically-dagger laced remarks stayed locked behind my clenched teeth and simply, "No, I don't think so." Brilliant! I keep walking away from him, thankful that he wasn't in kicking distance. It's over. I keep walking.

"Oh, not a political person?"

WHAT?! WHY DO YOU KEEP SPEAKING?!?!? $*#) *$ @*&$ %&$#!!!!!!!

By another miracle, I kept my mouth closed and did a nod/shake and kept walking.

I'm ashamed. Really. This attitude I have towards some people is not good. The point is, I try. A lot. I have an internal battle when some people speak and sometimes sharp words come out. This little blurb of my life definitely doesn't put me in a good light and makes me sound like a heathen but I... I just need to say that I do try and I am sorry.


Carmen.