Mondays... suck. Reminds me of the song "Why Do I Hate Mondays?" which was inspired by a woman with a shotgun. While she shot at school children going to school, the police asked why she was doing this. Her reply: "Tell me why do I hate mondays?" Weird. Verily.

Oscars were... disappointing. 'Nuff said.

Today's assigned homework goes as follows: three worksheets and 8 questions answered in paragraphs for biology, a 12+ package of busywork for japanese, the main outline for our up and coming art project, the usual 20 problems for math along with the advertising project due in a week. Sigh... too much work.

And I feel so small right now. Today, my art teacher had all the pieces she was putting in the gallery out for display, and I was shocked. The other first year art class had far more talent than my class did. I absolutely loved almost all of those paints, while at the same time wishing to strangle the artists. But, no, I will not start to better myself like Liz did. She kept on saying that her creative expenditures were used not all in art, but also in poetry and debate. That's really no excuse, since creativity has no bar measure which can be lowered... then again, it's not so much the creativity that I'm upset about, but the general higher quality of execution. Damn.

... and I feel even smaller now. What is my problems compared to those of others surrounding me? Lailani is ruminating over her inability to get over a certain crush, and it's seriously affecting her performance. Bill has been wondering about her own convictions about her choice in life and her choice to enter graduate school. Paul has been asking that for a while, and his latest cryptic posts have been at times frightening. Lastly, the owner of boy-ashamed came out to his parents, with disasterous outcomes. I'm... suddenly discouraged to come out to my own parents. Ugh, I think I'm experiencing discipline problems.

Please, some one hit me till I'm blue and red and the puss oozes from my tender flesh. I need to feel that something is real.