this bitter pill
<< 10:48 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 06, 2002 >>
Freedom is rolling away. Lightness of spirit has been killed in an unseen battle. I watch Guilt gallop towards me, covered with blood. My common enemy and friend. It will only leave at my death. It is my motivation, I would not do homework, I would not go to the same goddamn parties - I would not do anything without it. It�s like some sort of drug. I need it. I like the feeling of complete uselessness that spurs me toward a greatness I can never reach. The light at the end of the tunnel that gets smaller and smaller the harder I try.

I�m repeating myself too much. I whine for the sake of poetic melancholy. I can�t seem to shake the habit. Poetry of happiness does nothing for me; it sounds tripe in the end. And so, I come back to loneliness.

Homework�s pull is not strong enough, not even guilt can make me open a book. I will not. I cannot. I don�t have the power to make my brain crawl away from its constant sloth.

Mmmmmmmeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhh��������.

Diosa de nada