I worry sometimes, I only write about five different things. And the revisions must become tiresome. I worry about making all the revisions I know how to and still being stuck with the same five things.

And I must apologize to those of you who have been rerouted to this site by such sleazy means. From mediocre banners to Jason Falkner's Invitation to here. I had 25,000 banner views on my old supergold account. Can you blame me? Well if I've anything to recommend myself to you, it basically works like this:

1. In all actuality, I probably write on about eight different subjects.
2. I never, ever just write about my day.
3. I sometimes gush over the likes of Emma Thompson.
4. I make absolutely no guarantee of being the same person from month to month.

Welcome! That done...

Yes, it is "that point in the semester." Does it lose all ominousity if I've been saying that for at least two months?

(Ominousity is obviously a word because 48 people say it is.)

Tonight I challenged myself to do nothing but substantive work every free moment I have for the rest of this semester. I want to see what real productivity feels like. Once I've finished all my readings and papers, I want to find a random stack in the Bs, HQs, HXs, JCs or PRs and read for hours. Yes. I can write a diary entry if I have something to say, but no tinkering with the template until finals are over. I can see a movie with friends, but no, you know, examining blanket weaves. I made this challenge two hours ago, and I'm proud to say I've stuck to it all this while.

I have developed an intense disgust for laziness.

Well I just want to be elsewhere. On another continent, preferably; just the study lounge will do. Goddamn, I have grown so tired.

I'm the only one who's not gonna be clandestine about everything. But I suppose I'm not one to speak up, either.

This entry does not fall under any of the Big Five categories, and, as if to prove my theory, it has fallen quite flat. No, I never, ever just write about my day, but that doesn't stop me from being horrifically boring in my own right.

Well. It's 3am and I'm almost never lonely.

I love the time and in between the calm inside me, in the space where I can breathe, I believe there is a distance I have wandered to touch upon the years of reaching out and reaching in. Holding out, holding in.

I believe this is heaven to no one else but me. And I'll defend it as long as I can be left here to linger in silence if I choose to. Would you try to understand?

Sarah McLachlan always understands.