"You, my hidden pearl of pure and perfect love,
And I'm a living example of 100 percent the opposite of this,
If I ask the same questions
Well maybe I repeat myself from time to time,
But it's because everyone who answers me is a liar."

Apartments seeing snags. Every piece of my life that just last week felt like it was coming together neatly has extracted itself from its position and unraveled itself. At least I have a job down there, even if I have nowhere to live.

Trisha left for Chicago today. It's freezing out and I ate too much pizza today, and I've been cleaning (staring at my crap) and watching episodes of Nip/Tuck and talking to Joanna about what we're going to do. I feel like my mother would rather say "I told you so" and be pessimistic rather than try to help me think of something. She is longsuffering, I give her that.

I see my moods resurfacing in some emotional pattern I've yet to fully understand. I do not want to return to Philadelphia depressed, or homeless, or already having been defeated by classes I haven't taken yet. And yet my thoughts have drifted to 10th-11th grade on more than one occasion. I'm almost 21 here. I need to give up my past and I realize this.

"My jeans, your shoes, we'll throw away everything..."

I just feel sick of all of this. I want to have a place solidified instead of a half-assed plan to go down early and crash on someone's couch.


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