I am panicking. It is irrational. It is too late to Do Something about it all. I understand this. I am still panicking. There are people drifting about the place looking like serene black-and-white flowers in their elegantly ruffled post-exam sub fusc. I am still panicking. Listening to the Indelicates' ...If Jeff Buckley Had Lived on repeat. This not good and possibly unconscious manifestation of something. Have no desire to be suicidal rock star. This probably indicates I have grown as a person sice I was sixteen. Have desire to be someone who doesn't have Finals. Realise will get my wish if I live long enough, but this is NOT THE POINT.
Panic panic. Please to be talking me down from tree. Panicpanic. Am tired of being calm. Have been very calm, one feels. Almost zen. Have been serene. Have talked other people down from trees.
(Okay, am going to turn computer off and do past question. This will be calming? Maybe?)
(It is a lovely tree. It is beautiful and has cherry blossoms and is exactly the sort of tree I want to be in my next life and for all it is metaphorical I want to stay in it forever.)
(YES MORE PARENTHESIS WHAT OF IT. Tomorrow. Going to meet English finalists with
absinthe_shadow. All should accompany. All shall love me and despair.)
eta: past question indeed weirdly calming! Although, dear self: you are twenty-one years and six months old, it is time to outgrow your ADOLESCENT LOVE AFFAIR WITH THE SEMI-COLON.
Panic panic. Please to be talking me down from tree. Panicpanic. Am tired of being calm. Have been very calm, one feels. Almost zen. Have been serene. Have talked other people down from trees.
(Okay, am going to turn computer off and do past question. This will be calming? Maybe?)
(It is a lovely tree. It is beautiful and has cherry blossoms and is exactly the sort of tree I want to be in my next life and for all it is metaphorical I want to stay in it forever.)
(YES MORE PARENTHESIS WHAT OF IT. Tomorrow. Going to meet English finalists with
eta: past question indeed weirdly calming! Although, dear self: you are twenty-one years and six months old, it is time to outgrow your ADOLESCENT LOVE AFFAIR WITH THE SEMI-COLON.
no subject
on 2008-05-19 04:32 pm (UTC)G'luck, love, although I'm sure you don't need it. <3
no subject
on 2008-05-19 04:35 pm (UTC)He is the equivalent of me arguing in my Contract collection that emails were like letters and texts were like semaphore replacing speech, just so I could force there to be a contract.... oh dear!
Thank you for luck - luck and *Hugs* for you too. When do you get out the other end of it all? (I don't for ever and ages... :( )
no subject
on 2008-05-19 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-05-19 05:03 pm (UTC)I shall see you briefly then scurry off to do more revision for the next one :)