I wish I were funny, like Kelly.
I wish I could write powerfully, like Courtney.
I wish I could write at all lately.
I wish I had done more in high school apart from the computer-- read more, written more, talked about more.
I wish I could really wish for that last one, since my knowledge of computers has been awfully helpful sometimes.
I wish it were easier to be single.
I wish it were easier to be a girl.
I wish I weren't so hard on myself.
Well, you finally did it. You made it snow, really snow, for the first time this season.
With the snow come the couples. Yesterday, Romance would drift by in its usual way, slowly spiralling through the campus like bits of cotton candy. Today Romance is a bloody ASSAULT, exploding like a screaming hurricane from every corner of the sky.
Except mine, of course.
I recovered from my distress this time, though, faster than ever. I've walked a circle in this place and I'm where I was almost exactly a year ago. Which, by the way, is a great memory. I can see myself sitting in my chair beside the window, staring out at the parking lot, and waxing wordy in the dark. I can see myself making a meticulous little journal entry which, in hindsight, isn't expressed that well. But it's still cute. And at least I got your point.
When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate--
I still cannot claim my condition is so horrible.
To wake as a dung beetle is far more deplorable.