I'm not so sure that's a bad thing. It's better than being all fucked up.

I haven't been reading as much as I used to. That sucks. This last week I've only really read books for school and Irvine Welsh, who might as well not count, his book is so simple.

A revelation just came to me. But I forgot it.

School proceeds at a laconic speed. It rushes past too. I feel like the idiot who always speaks in class, but no one else will answer the fucking grad students questions, so what the fuck.

I've been getting weird e-mails lately. Lots of old folks showing up, surprising me. Britt wrote me, after not speaking to my brother for six months, saying she might be coming to visit. That's fucking weird. There's more people I'd like to write about, but I can't. So fuck off.

The previous is as much to my subconscious as to anyone.

If it's not apparent from the writing, I'm feeling totally in the present. I'm having a hard time getting my thoughts together enough to put a whole paragraph together. Self-analysis is failing.

I'm broke. That became pretty aparent today, as I realized I have 100 dollars that has to last me until the 19th. I shouldn't have gone to Chicago. Even though Steve paid for everything, I still had a few expenses, and I really can't afford it. Not with paying two peoples' rent this month. I need a fucking roommate to fill our third bedroom. You'd think an East Village apartment with two somewhat attractive college students would have a lot of appeal, but we are fucking struggling. Adam's broke, I'm broke, and we just need a roommate. Money is such a drag. I wish I either didn't have to worry about it or it didn't exist. That's sort of funny coming from someone whose folks are pretty decently well off. But I'm broke at the moment, so that's not too pacifying for me, at the moment. Maybe that just makes me a hypocrit. I don't really know.

I found myself defending Petrarch today. It surprised me. I didn't really think I liked it until people started attacking him in a Lit. class today. But I realized as much as I hate him, I really identify with him. He's an asshole, a misogynist; he's totally self-obsessed, really vain. But I identified with his self-deception. It's similar to that that I've noticed in myself. And he writes about a girl named Laura. I know a girl named Laura....

Enough bullshit, I'm going to study Czech.