I just typed an entry that was incredibly pathetic and self-loathing. Then I realized that I didn't care because no one reads this. Now I regret erasing it.
Over the weekend I split my head open on a dry wall. I was trying to jump from one bed to another and, apparently, it wasn't as impressive of a display as i had hoped it would have been. I had to get six stitches. I also have an enormous black eye that is finally starting to open and a huge popped blood vessel in my eye. Overall, I look really good.
I should be studying for my Human Bio exam that I have tomorrow. I spent about 6 hours in the library tonight, most of which I spent wondering what happened to my brain cells that used to allow me to study for tests in about an hour. Currently, I am thinking of ways to murder the people who live in the dorm next to me for being so obnoxiously loud consistently at about 1 AM every night.
I also have triggered a part in my brain that makes me extremely nervous over the past few months. I become particularly nervous in social situations (this has actually been going on for years). I have lost the ability to carry on a conversation and I know that it is because of my own heinousness, not the heinousness of others. Although, others can be extremely heinous, however when I'm not being heinous I am able to realize that and not really care about it. Please do not spend any amount of time trying to comprehend the absolutely fucked up mental processes that I expressed in detail in the last few sentences. I think I should go to a psychiatrist.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, my "social anxiety" (I did some googling and now think that I have it). As much as I resent others in so many ways, I often find myself trying to talk to them (and sounding really retarded at the same time) just so that they do not have a negative opinion of me. I also find myself very awkward when I'm alone with my semi-normal-except-for-the-projectile-vomiting-incident roommate. He really is normal, actually, but for some reason I am trapped in a shell of my own heinousness (word count for "heinousness" in this entry: 3 times) and cannot converse with him. It is extremely frustrating and I find myself trying to point out things about him that are heinous in order to make myself feel better about my own heinousness (4 times).
Overall, my brain has been engaging in some really fucked up activity that has prevented me from doing a lot of things. Maybe I left a majority of my brain cells on the dry wall that I face-planted into or something. Or maybe having to listen to James on a daily basis has started to eat away at my brain. I haven't decided yet.
What will I even write about on this when I no longer live with James? He has become such an integral part of this little journal that no one reads! I will have nothing to write about, I'm sure, because nothing in my life can provide any form of writing. Except, of course, my heinousness.
Anyway, I will stop writing this entry now because I think that I have crossed the line from "self-loathing" and "pathetic" to "shut the fuck up you stupid self-absorbed asshole".
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