why question? [ 2010-02-22, 11:39 p.m. ]

Oh life, how it can really get to you sometimes. Oh, and why do I constantly feel as if my body is a cage? Always such things I wish it would let me be, to experience to change and to grow. But my body has other ideas. Illness, sometimes ugliness, strange paradoxes and other feats of sheer clumsiness.

I have this big presentation and paper due tomorrow which I do not feel ready for at all. I feel like an outsider of this educational nightmare, tip-toeing past the strange, sick glamor that is university. I really do not want to stand in front of my class and ramble on about something (in all seriousness) I know nothing, or care nothing about. But time to put on a pretty face and smile for the cameras.

And what is this love thing? Something you have for someone that tears you apart as you place it all in another being? I fear so many things, true, but to lose this is to lose my mind for sure. So I sometimes step on eggshells but why bother pretending? I want to be myself more than anyone else right now so why am I trying to shape to these tight crevices and cracks in this mold I have built? My image of my perfect self. His perfect girl, what I imagine his perfect girl to be. Oh! But it all leads back here between these green eyes of mine, pinpoint needle pains and thundering headaches of worry and doubt.

So, the question is, why question?

I am also concerned about not being concerned enough about making an ass of myself tomorrow.

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