Darkling I listen; and, for many a time/I have been half in love with easeful Death

I've decided that I like Keats. Not sure why, because (imho, at least) he's the father of the emo movement. I had a presentation on his 'Ode to a Nightingale;' and I have to admit, when I first read the title all I could think was, 'damnit, I have to do a poem about a bird?!' But then I actually read the damn thing, and I really like it. It's very...I don't know. Accurate regarding my own perceptions. Keats is longing for this painless, easy fading away--like all his atoms and molecules softly dissipating into the air--but then he starts to realise that death isn't as wonderful as it sounds; that the total absence of everything is actually rather terrifying. So he decides to try to tough it out, and suck it up, and carry on, and insert trite phrase of your choice here. I wish I could say that I'm not gonna seek death for the same reason as Keats, but I can't, not if I want to be honest. I'm not going to do it because I'm afraid of failing. And I'm afraid for what it will do to several people in my life who mean so much to me; hurting them is one of the worst things I can imagine.

On another note, the Parnassus thing is going very well this year. There have been about five times as many submissions than last year, and they're generally better quality. Granted, some are just crap, but for the most part we can afford to be rather picky and selective, and it's a nice feeling to know that a journal I helped put together is going to have quality entries. The Poetry/Prose Reading thing went well, too, although nobody laughed at the parts of my story that I thought were funny. Well, no, I heard somebody chuckle when I mentioned drawing in the hymnals, but that was it. It was kind of depressing, but I figure that since very few people here share my sense of humour, odds were against anyone in the audience finding it funny or even mildly amusing.

Other than that, I haven't been doing to terribly well. I'm going to quit WoW, because I have better things to do with my time and money than sitting at my computer killing imaginary monsters and being killed by real people. It's been a long, tough, tiring month, and there have been so many times that I just wanted to sit down and scream, or run until I got sick, or punch someone or something. I actually cried a bit on Sunday night. I wanted to just break down and weep earlier this evening, too, but (fortunately) I've still got decent control over my lacrimal ducts (read: tears). There have been several things that I had been hoping for, or hoping to do, and now I'm starting to realise that they're probably not the best things for me. I'm like that sometimes, and I'm hoping to get better. I'd love to have better judgment and more common sense regarding myself, as well as more patience and a hell of a lot less bitterness.

I found out that people in high school were 'absolutely freaking terrified' of me (to quote a source), and they hated me. Which isn't all that surprising, really--I suspected it, but I didn't really know. I do now, though, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I'm not sure how I feel about my brother not wanting me to know what he thinks of me. I know he's disappointed in me, but that was obvious last Christmas when he started preaching at me.

I feel like such an incredible failure most of the time. Whether I actually am or not doesn't matter; reality doesn't really factor in. Maybe I have a skewed perspective of myself, but I think it's more likely that I'm just a lot better at faking life than I used to be. Not that that matters, either.

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