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2003-12-17 | 2:11 p.m.
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More grades have come in. Confirming, solidifying my status. Or maybe not. There is one B but I rejoice in it. These fingers are not meant for the piano. The I that shows burns my stomach but I could not sing. There was no sound. It wont be an I forever. The grade that I'm waiting for remains elusive. I think it will be an A. I hope it will be an A. It will probably be an A or maybe a B. Because the essay had no spark. It was heavy and sparkless and the empty spot next to that class peels at my sanity, which was already worn thin. Illness and exams have piled things around me. I should depile or repile but instead I check obsessively for letters and burn myself repeatedly with I's. It is a sickness and I know it and I am walking away now. But I will be back in a little while, in a minute.
Mental State- anxious
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