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1.09.2013
This morning I felt great. Went to a new class, single-handedly brainstormed an art installation for a group project. Had lunch with friends. Learned to say hello in Spanish.
Now I feel like shit. Life has a stupid fucking way of turning itself on it’s end in the quickest of fashions. I’m quite, uncharacteristically, intensely depressed. I feel as if the thoughts in my head are made up of thousands of strings, wet heavy, thick, gray yarn, dragging through glue, through mud, sludge, weighing me down.
I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to go swimming, or have drinks with friends.
I am going to lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling, until I wake up tomorrow.


