Nope nope nope.

I’m so goddamn angry.

And so tired.

And I’m sitting here hoping my roommate doesn’t come back early, because if she does she’ll probably find me sitting in front of a half-finished page of volume approximations using intervals, alternately muttering and shouting to myself about how godDAMNitwhattheFUCKIdon’tknowANYofthisGODdamnbullshitwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck because oh god damn it, my short term memory is shot right now.

I am not a good friend right now.

I am not a good blog poster right now.

I am not a good student right now.

I am not a role model right now.


And part of me has to wonder if I’m just a dysfunctional person, and the rape doesn’t really have that much to do with it in the first place.


I don’t know what to do, or where I’m going with this, except maybe to remind myself that I can’t always have my shit together enough to even write something helpful.

And remind myself that no matter what I try to say otherwise, I spend a good portion of my time feeling like shit.