13 XII 2002 - 22:39 - de spe

Title of this entry: 'about hope.'

I've too much to deal with this week. There are finals coming up. There are holiday concerts and screaming children coming up. There is Latin to be rendered and math to be recalled and when that mixes with my cyclical loss of confidence which seems to have an ever-diminishing period, it is clear this week just needs to be over.

I used to believe I had something to say for weeks on end. I'm not particularly inclined to believe it so of myself these days, and I wonder if there's any truth to it if it is a feeling that but increases. I think I sense dimly that this is one of those times when it might be good to second-guess myself to an absurd degree, but who knows? I've been wrong about that in the past.

In the meantime, I am looking at prompts for five Buzzes, all of which I seem to have mised, the newest Alchera monthly project, wondering what books I'm going to pick up for people, and, oh yeah, I should probably be studying, too. (But reading the Hello Cthulhu webcomic is so much more amusing... well, maybe, if you're me.)

It's raining a lot here. It's interesting: every time this happens I want simply to crawl into bed and sleep for the entire day. I don't like this about myself but sometimes it makes me feel better. It's simply too bad I won't be able to do that this weekend.

Coherence? No, thank you. Das gef�llt mir nicht.

What I need I think is the assurance that it gets easier if I wrestle with myself now, even if it's not true. Because otherwise I think I would be lazy and inclined to give up shouting the part of me that tries to shout me down down. (How's that for an embedded sentence?) I feel like a walking cliche: adolescence isn't easy, blah blah blah, self-development, growing pains, self-awareness, painful process, and I feel as if I have no right to do this because I should be able just to snap out of it.

I think I had the assurance that I would make things better for myself a while back, but now it's just given way to a sense that everything will always be uphill, always, and that my only redemption is in having tried, in having fought to make some meaning and some health for myself.

But that's not enough, damn it. I need my delusions.

I have something to offer others.
Issues are not the only things I could bring to a relationship.
I have as much right to be here as anyone else.
Everyone makes mistakes.

I think that's a start.