coffee=poop

As I sit here, my hands shake while I type. I had too much coffee this morning and my heart is racing. In this caffinated pattern, I know I have to poop but I can't seem to bring myself to awkwardly fill a public bathroom with the smell of left overs. My exhaustion will soon bring me to drink more coffee, enforcing the poo. I will give in to its call...

This pattern, this shaky feeling...I don't feel normal. I haven't felt like myself for the past week. Maybe it's my new step into the world of adulthood, the sudden change from "-teen" to two decades of being alive. I feel awkward in my own skin, I struggle to think of interesting things to say but they all come out wrong, I've lost my ability to communicate. This paranoia, this socially awkward tension that surrounds me, it is a common recurrence every few months. I go through these waves of altered self-conciousness. I feel pretty, no, no...you feel ugly now. I fear my growing dependence on alcohol to make me feel confident. Sure, it's only on the weekends..maybe even only on a friday or a saturday...but I can't help but enjoy the wittiness it gives me, the strength of that booze-sheild protecting me from defeat. I cry too much these days...my therapist looks at me like I'm a weirdo for crying when I think about other people giving me compliments. My words stumble and get stifled on their way out...I tense up. I'm happy though, despite these words. I just want everyone else to be happy too. I hope you are still happy.

This will make you happy, if you are not already:
http://www.zombo.com/


I want to be over this period of my life already. My catalogue for art center arrived... and it scared me but made me excited. I just keep asking myself...will I be good enough?

Well, will I?