need to get to sleep. class at 8.55 tomorrow morning. that's gonna suck. really bad. every tue/thu for the next four months. i wonder how much i'll go. probably every day, i'm a sucker. anyway, i wanted to talk to D before bed tonight, but i doubt that's gonna happen. probably i'll take the anti-d's and try and sleep (a desire in vain, but i'll try anyway).

relationships are hard. i saw caitlin tonight. she helped. made me feel like i'm worth something. i don't feel like it very much. and i hate that. that i don't feel great. i mean, i read about people always complaining about how much life sucks, and i hate them. i fucking hate them. but what the fuck do i do? talk about how grand it is? it is stellar sometimes. but all the things that make me stellar i've stolen, or i've ignored, or i don't appreciate.

all the things but the relationship i'm in.

i got a love letter.

it's the first one i've ever gotten.

it is the best i will ever get.

not because i will never get another, but because it was the best.

i want it all to work out. it will. i'll make it. i fucking will, so fuck off. all my friends, they can fuck off. my family, they can fuck off too.

caitlin made it to new york. that rocks. i saw her. we didn't have anything to talk about.

school starts tomorrow, it's the best thing i can do right now. if i keep up my GPA for another semester or two i'll have my choice of schools. my choice of places. my choice of jobs. but none of that matters. it's all about now. it's all about D. it's all about me. i me mine. that's fucked. but i can't help but feel it. i need to make this work. i want it to work.

i honestly feel everything can work:

D can get a job. I can get a job. I can make some cashflow and fly D out here, he can make some money and contribute. He'll move out, to Berkeley. I'll finish this semester, have some money, move to Berkeley (with D?) and finish school at UCB. That won't happen for a bit, I know. But if I keep the grades, I could do it in a year. I could fucking do it. I will fucking do it. Not just for D. I'm just not happy here. And I'm paying WAY to much money to not be happy.

I want to write a letter. I don't have his address. He lives in a hotel. He hasn't given me his address, and he is uncomfortable talking on the phone. This will be rough. But worth it.

He sent me songs last night. I love them.

I love.

I wanted to quote LOW, a song called Immune: am i naked too? does it taste like home? only when your eyes are closed. am i still immune? am I naked too?

but i've already used it.

so here goes something new.