Man, I'm so fucking tired...

I can't wait until Christmas exams.

Well, after the exams part.

Y'know, free time, winter, celebration of Jesus' birth, carols, parties, hot apple cider, the whole deal, but mainly because I'll be sleeping in like a motherfucker.

w00t.

And I have to come up, on my own, [hem hem] with a science fair idea that's both good and not too hard and different but not too easy.

And I have to pick a CEGEP and a program and stick with it through thick and thin and I have to get good marks and play decent on my team, show up to church at least once and maybe flirt with some chicks and be an idiot and do arts & lit and write poetry or lyrics both french and english and most importantly get good marks O_O

Gah.

OMGAH if you will.

And I blog, daily, maybe not, but it's for you guys as much as it is for me, well not really but if nobody read my blog what would be the point?

i need those digits, or that email address...

but i'm self centred again, so bad, i can't imagine, and i try to joke about it but i'm always part of the joke myself, practically as bad as i joke myself to be it's so ugly like garbage in a pond or like a bunch of stupid people getting drunk and sitting around being fuckheads late at night and being dicks to passersby just for the fun of it lets start some shit hey you kid where the fuck you think you're going?

fucking cunt.

and i'm stressing bigtime about math, it's my monkey on my back, it's a bitch and it's a ball and chain and i have to carry it and the only way i can survive it is by forgetting it's there, ignoring it, but i gotta be reminded time and time again alex you're in 536 we're in precal kids in grade 10 are doing the same shit as you and getting better marks you dumbass why oh why fuck you mister fucking zion why oh why oh why fuck you alex manley, alexander fucking h manley you let me down, you fucked me over, now i have to deal with your mistakes, take the blame for everything you did and i hate you i hate you i hate it all my past self for letting me down and my future self for hating my present self for letting him down and it's just one big three piece ball of hatred.

so i wrote about it.

* fifty-three *

Forty - seven winks short of the impossible and i'm
losing sleep i'm losing ground but something tells me i've walked this
road before; that i've been here already

and now i'm looking to the heavens as i approach the
third doorway for the second time around the air is thicker
here and my load, once light, is now heavy

the problems blur in my mind as the pressure mounts, can i
take this amount of stress so early in this relationship?
only time and an enigma will tell.

zzz

and as if school wasn't bad enough, and my ability to cope wasn't shitty enough, and i was getting more than six hours of sleep a night and doing my homework on time and performing to expectations or maybe even above them there's the whole social aspect and the need for that info comes up again, there's the schism i'm trying to sew shut, there are the candies in the jar that i can't open and there's the ugly product that's not divisible by me of two beautiful factors that are and that's not mathematically possible but somehow it's killing me.

i'll email you tomorrow henry, sorry for the delay,

x