My comments about the panel yesterday weren't really accurate. I'm pretty good at taking pessimism about one aspect of my life and projecting it onto other positive pieces. The panel was good for the school. I still don't think I laid any huge bombshells at anyone's feet, but I told my story. I did what I could, and if anybody listened and took anything from it, great! I don't know if anybody did, but so what? I tried.

I'm debating going to the guys' house who I met at the bar a few weeks ago. I'm not sure if it's just because I wouldn't mind drinking tonight, or if it's because I want to see them. I remain a conundrum to myself. I think I can analyze things so accurately only to turn around an hour, maybe a few days, later and realize I am completely full of shit. That's one of the reasons I feel so fake sometimes. My feelings, my analysis, my opinions never stay the same for long. Maybe it's just a part of growing, but I wonder. And I worry. Is my identity a complete fucking lie? I try not to be a lie, but it's so damn hard. It's always about impressing one person or another, or just trying to make myself feel needed or liked, or even loved. This is getting cheesy. This is over. I'm still angry, but my blood pressure has dropped back to a more normal level for me (still high compared to most considering my anxiety and insecurity. By the way, this is figurative, I'm healthy in the real blood pressure department). That's the moral: it's not worth killing myself over (also figurative, I'm not suicidal), but it is worth fighting for. So I'll fucking fight and hope something works. I'll hope someONE enters my life soon. "I wish I was an investment someone was willing to make." That's been stuck in my head since I read it. I'd fucking make that investment.

I feel bad for all the fucking adults that will never let themselves be kids again.

'What's it like to be old? Because you're old, old, old, old. Tell me, what's it like to be old?' ----'What's It Like To Be Old?' by Cock Sparrer

'You's a bit old; you ain't as good as us.' ----'England Belongs To Me' by Cock Sparrer