I was deleting old texts, and the three women I've had feelings for wound up one after another in my list. I'm glad you all found someone better.

I used to pretend that when I got bigger and could finally spit water onto the shower ceiling, that I would get superpowers. I've always felt small.

Damn, I'm depressed.

This whole year I have felt like a fraud. I never deserved any of these honors, or your love. I've been cracking for far too long. Stop, train! Please!

e trains and the stars have always allured me. I know I'm not alone, but I feel like I'm in this same exact spot far too often. I love you.

ou for this blessed opportunity, but I fucked it up. I fucked it up twice. I hate letting you all down but it's apparently the only thing I'm good at. Th

y quiet when you're steaming inside like a kettle without a spout. Preschool allegories or shit like that. I'm sorry and I'm sorry and I'm sorry. Thank y

nd it makes me feel desperately alone. I hate how this thing will get partitioned into chunks that my phone carrier claims are standard. It's hard to sta

If I knew what I was doing, I wouldn't be sitting here in this bathtub, texting at 2am. The window is open, but there's too much light to see the stars a

It Will Or It Won't

Spring Break is over. I am somewhat caught up on things, though I guess you can never be completely caught up. Still have hw to finish for next week, slides to start making, and 20 million things to think about.

First of all, I need to figure out where the hel my motivation went. This isn't something that can be remedied by a pounding soundtrack or a well-place luck of procrastination. I have questions that I need to answer for myself. When I think about them, I just shut down and try to ignore them.

I need help. I don't know what the hell I'm doing in grad school. I don't know what options I have (if any) if I wanted to leave after this semester. Who says I'll get the option to leave? I might just get kicked out. I don't feel like I've *DONE* anything! If success is measured by the number of publications you're a part of, then I think we need a new metric.

Now moved into a new place with my cousin again, it's only a matter of time before everything either flourishes or crumbles. It will or it won't. I'm tired of this middle ground I've been wavering on for far too long. I always hated the Nike "Just Do It" ads because I always thought of that approach as irresponsible. I need something new.

A song I wrote in 2004 popped in my head from that line. It's called "Dallas," and I admit it's a rip-off of the Dishwalla song "Nashvile Skyline."

I'm tired of feeling like I'm a rip-off. I'm ready to be somebody again.