Had a deep thought today. I should have written it down cuz I've forgotten it now. Ah well. Friend of mine was wearing her letterman (woman?) jacket today. I noticed all the state stars and such. And then how many things you must be good at in order for her to have gotten all those things... and then I'm realizing... in wake of the solo and ensamble contest. I worked on that piece for half a year or more... and still can't even come close to state. Tennis the same story, except spead over oh I don't know... 7 years. Everyone is good at something... except me. Feeling very sub-standard. It's not the jacket I'm mourning, it's my total dearth of talent. No that isn't quite right. I have just enough talent so that the Furies can mock me when I expend effort. Frusteration. Going extestentialist on the whole girl thing. What is the purpose of taking any action if you know how it will end? I know that the beginnings of college would mean the end of any relationship... yet if we are to use that logic and apply it to the entire lifespan. There is no sense in falling in love at all. Because the end result is assured. Life ends. And so does the relationship, so why bother. And PRESTO! Instant extestentialist. Also makes coffee and fries. Oddities: When two of your good friends are going out. Does anyone ever really think about how that screws everyone else up? Because whenever you see 'em you are afraid you are intruding when you walk up to them and begin to speak. Bad vibes. It's somewhat frusterating and always leaves me feeling odd. I suppose I should be all happy for them and such, but that doesn't stop me from kinda feeling like they have detached from the rest of the world. Either that or got sick of my innane rantings, which is entirely possible. And in other news. Being sick sucks... quite classroom and you've got a running nose. Yarrrr.

Once you accept that, accept that everything will always be the same... the rich have the same shitty life as the poor, weak are as destitute as the strong... then... then what?

-CR