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    • Sometimes I wonder.....

    • Posted by munin218 on 7 Feb 08
    • ....why I even bother.

      I end up caring about my meaningless job, hoping that when I apply to actually do something relevant to my studies and experience, that I have a realistic chance of getting the position, that my experience and qualifications actually matter. That my ability to meet deadlines and tow my own weight, to be proactive and look to meet needs and get shit done would be seen as assets.

      I didn't have a chance in hell.

      Fuck 'em.
    • Z: TBH: Afternoon, Day 11

    • Posted by Z on 7 Feb 08
    • Fucking bullshit session timed out, stole my blog entry.

      'You cannot post this entry because you're not part of the discussion or POSTDATA or some bullshit.'


      You want the short can't-let-the-session-time-version? Here it fucking is:

      I left the house last night, like an idiot.

      I went home regretting leaving the house, because I came back with even more doubt and more self-loathing than I had before I got in the car.

      Fuck social interaction.

      Fuck having a social life.

      Fuck having fair-weather friends too far away to be bothered with me.

      My brain is buzzing with too much bullshit to keep track of, and too much time to myself. The insects are crawling out my ears and tearing me apart from the outside in. The ones remaining inside are working their way out through my stomach and eyes and my face make me exhausted, bleary, not-hungry, and aching.

      I. am. tired.

      No, I don't have another story. No, I'm not going to be fine-just-fine. And no, I don't want to laugh at myself anymore, I've laughed so hard at myself I've caused myself to vomit.

      The next time I laugh that hard, I'll hyper-ventilate myself into a state of unconsciousness.

      In fact, I might try that now; I desperately need the sleep.

      I think I hear an insidious chuckle welling up.

      - Z
    • Butthurt - I am not a Saint

    • Posted by Rootfireember on 7 Feb 08
    • In the sciences, I am not a saint. I had that beaten out of me on the second lab report we did in complete scientific paper style, down to citations. I was decent at writing papers, and early on got into the habit of supporting my words with references, citing other articles bigger, more badass scientists had done.

      Now to Psychology, which I'm treating as Biology Lite. I'm in an upper level course, though it feels more like a 101 course in tone, and in my classmate's primary responses to things. We're told to chew on each other's thoughts and ideas and to respond.

      This is where it gets tricky, you see: One of my classmates is butthurt, because she made a rash, blatantly untrue statement, and got corrected for it. (cont.)
    • Audition

    • Posted by Don Kelly on 7 Feb 08
    • I wrote a piece as an audition for the website Elephant Words. It's called "Broke Down" after the photo all participants auditioned from. Check it out here:

      Hope you enjoy.
    • Nicotine and Vitriol

    • Posted by Rachel on 6 Feb 08
    • I suspect this is where I post any manner of ranty/random stuff.

      Here is a dog that sometime thinks he's the boss of me but he has no fucking thumbs and I can sit on him until he cries.

      Here is me and a boy who knows he's not the boss of me because he Fears and Worships me, as all boys should.

      Here is the girl who recently became my minion.

      Here is me, not actually being naked.

      And here is me laying on the tin roof in the rain.
    • Waiting for the ice to sneak back in

    • Posted by WaxPoetic on 6 Feb 08
    • The week began slowly and with bad weather, weather that doesn't believe our local, regional Groundhog that spring is on its way. either that, or spring and winter had a wretched break-up and winter wants to make sure we don't forget before spring shows up and makes everything pretty again. but spring around here means headaches and allergies, rain storms that make no sense and tornado season starts anew. it means the smell of dirt and plants growing up through death and decay, it means the constant fear of the late frost, like last year's, the kind that killed all of the little apple buds which meant that the nebraskans were snacking on apples from michigan during our apple season. it's the kind of thing that makes you question your own need to be isolated and superior.

      the male cat has become my nursemaid, watching me carefully as i ease my overly sore and battered body into and out of bed. he treads around me under my blankets and doesn't complain when i grab him for a cuddle. his sister is pissed that there is still plastic on the windows - she needs to see outside, to know that the world is more than a hallway with a bed at one end and a view at the other.

      i appreciate the attention he pays. it is slightly odd, because i've had dogs as nursemaids before, but most of the cats i've lived with have been more concerned with my mental well-being than my physical. i guess that's what happens when you crack your tail-bone these days. Hunh.