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Ugh. I feel weird, really weird. On one hand, I have options, and on the other.. I don't have options that include what I'm wanting. I feel soooooo torn. I feel so belittled. I feel so much like an object. I didn't want this to happen, any of it. I just want to be happy. I hate feeling so bipolar.. It all changes so quickly. I am so fucking confused. I wish life were full of arrows that pointed to where you should go, or who you should choose. It'd be so much simpler. Torn.

I'm drowing in tiny shreds,
shreds in pieces like flakes of silver,
sterling silver,
melting from a torn heart
that knows the drill,
the material drill.
A routine boring deep to the core,
a hot, hot core,
that's finally bearing the heat,
an uncomfortable heat,
laced with hypnotic powers;
it brings a sadness, a sense of defeat,
a cloud of confusion,
smoke that smothers the consciousness
with bad choices.
Is it really a bad choice?
Or maybe just a temporary disillusionment,
welcomed by physical desires.
I don't know.
Impossible to know, really.
Impossible to be sure, to be confident,
to feel good, to feel successful.
Impossible to retain a sense of accomplishment,
without having it tainted by the ignorant.
Oh how I wish it were easy to be happy,
to love myself, to be content with this form.
It isn't easy,
when the outside world tears at your sun,
the fruit and the motivation of your labor,
one in the same,
torn.

"In your relationships with others . . .

Remember the basic and critically important rule: If you want to be loved, be lovable."


Dear Journal,

It's so hard.
We complain about wanting things..
But run the other way when they're knocking on our door.
I give good advice to others,
But I can't seem to follow it myself.
This might take some time.
This is a confusing world,
And I am thus thoroughly confused.
If only I knew what the future holds,
But I guess we just have to take chances.
Maybe that's all I need to do,
Just be a risk-taker.
What fun is standing on the side-lines your whole life?
I can't let that happen.
It's just so hard.
So very, very hard.
This might take some time.

Signed,
Confused, Loved, and Sleepless.
Maggie.

"Recycling and speed limits are bullshit . . .

they're like someone who quits smoking on his deathbed."

Fucking cops. That quite possibly was one of the most ironic things that has happened to me in a long time. First, Friday in Spanish class the profesor asked us if we had ever gotten speeding tickets. Of course I have, so I said yes, and it was funny. Want to hear something even funnier?

Friday at 10:30 I went to a party, had a beer, BUT only one beer, because I was going to be driving to dayton at 11:30. So we left for Dayton, and instinct told me to eat some breath mints. So I did. We're 5 mintues away from our destination in Dayton (we had to be there at 12) and it was 12. So I was speeding. Sure enough, I got pulled over. How's that for a punch in the face? Thank god for Tic Tac Bold.


Anyway, we went bowling at this "mingle with students from other universities" thing, and got stuck bowling with 4 people from Cedarville. The guy was really nice, but the girls were perfect as well as super nice; therefore I had to be petty and hate them for their perfectness. What sucked even more was that the lanes surrounding us were full of cool people from Antioch.

But, to avoid being completely negative, it was minutely fun. I had a good time. It was different.

Recap of last weekend though (seeing as I didn't update then): . . . . . We played Edward 40-Hands in the Matthies House (Honors house on campus). We got shitfaced. I puked in the bathroom for what seemed like a week, and passed out in the fetal position on the floor for a few minutes even. Eventually I/Erin dragged my body to a couch and passed out on a Matthies House couch until 7:30am, when Kathryn called to tell us it was a perspective student day, and that they'd probably be giving tours of the Matthies House. So I dragged my ass back home, only to get up at 10 and run errands and spend the day doing tax returns with mom. Such fun. Who am I kidding though, it really was a blast . . . I always have great stories. haha.

We lost the Wooster game. But that's okay. It was still fun.

This past week was uneventful. I'm just counting down the days until Spring Break and an awesome trip to Ireland. Fucking brilliant. :-D

"The only stupid question is the one that is never asked . . . except maybe 'Don't you think it is about time you audited my return?' or 'Isn't it morally wrong to give me a warning when, in fact, I was speeding?"