• What's the point? What is the point of living? It doesn't matter how we live; selfishly, happily, angrily, selflessly, horribly, it really doesn't matter. We all die in the end. I may save mankind, but I will never be able to save myself from the inevitable. I want meaning, I want purpose, I want passion...where did all my passion go? What happened to my will to fight, to breathe, to bare my pain with a smile upon my face? All I do is scowl and cry. I'm bitter and angry. People, they love my wit, it's hysterical. I'm only really witty when I'm angry though. I have a tongue that was made for lashings, but sometimes I wish it would just fall out. Somewhere between Quantum Mechanics and General Relativity we missed something, but all we talk about is strings that we can't even see and formulas that only make sense in a hypothetical world. Funds, where are all the funds going? Is that what a mathematician does for a living? I wonder what it would be like to get sucked into a black hole (passed of course, the extreme pain.) You're body being ripped to pieces starting with part nearest to the black hole while the rest just sort of chills out. Maybe a black hole leads to the other side, the afterlife. After all, you can go in but you can never come out. I'm such a mediocre and boring person. I'm really not one for entertaining and my conversations are only so enjoyable. I realized I've made friends with yet another senior who will just leave again. He says he'll come back for Thanksgiving and see me, I hope so. Sometimes I feel there's a...tension...but I feel a lot of things. The room is just spinning, and spinning, and tilting in all directions. I close my eyes at night and it's as though my bed is laying upon a dizzy top. My doctor said it was hormones, just like my appetite problem, my weird weight, and my heart palpitations. I must have a lot of hormones, they must all really hate me too. Whatever I did, I'm sorry hormones, can you please make the dizzy top stop? I keep ending these with apologies. I feel like I'm letting people down, or maybe it's just myself. I'm realizing that as the anxiety is dissipating I'm forced with who I really am. Anxiety left and now I see this girl named Kathlynn, she is blonde and boring, she is worrisome and angry, she doesn't know where to go and she feels like giving up, she likes music and art, she writes mediocre stories, and she can't really play the piano. I don't really like Kathlynn very much... I've been trying to change her my whole life though. Shape her into something great, something interesting, but she always just goes back to her original awkward, pigeon toed state. Her cautious eyes never lose their tinge of sadness, I feel sorry for everyone who has too look into them. Quote of the Day: ~"When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it happened or not."~ --Mark Twain

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