It's been a long time since I felt the way I'm feeling right now. It must be lack of sleep and the mind-numbing effect of typing page after page of absolute crap. Wears me out.
I did not manage to finish before the deadline. Emailed my teacher that I couldn't come to class to hand it in, but that I sent him a hardcopy of the paper by snailmail, so he'd have it on his desk tomorrow afternoon. Dug me my own hole. It bought me two extra hours, but that wasn't enough. He won't get it tomorrow and I feel like a failure. I know I should be working like hell, but I just can't. I'm staring past my screen at the clouds. I have the feeling there is something stuck inside, something in my brain that doesn't belong there.
I was depressed back then.
It's almost a nice feeling, some kind of home-coming. Like wearing your old familiar jacket instead of your new one. And you know it's full of holes and won't shelter you from the rain a bit, that instead it will just suck up all the water and get you even more soaked than you'd be otherwise.
Tomorrow is the last day of the semester. Tomorrow is when the party is. Not for me though, I'll be working and celebrating my extensions.
It's just mean. And why does it feel so good to hate everything, yourself above all? Where does that masochistic tendency come from?
I know myself, though, this won't last. All I need is a good night sleep and 45 minutes on my racing bike. It's not much, but it's my way of staying happy. Makes me wonder how fucked up life can be, if I can't even have that.