I want to tell you...

Well I have 32 minutes left until the battery on my laptop dies.

I have dropped out of Rhetoric 10 for a combination of reasons, the professor is confusing, thus making a confusing subject frustrating, I needed to drop a class, Tuesdays were hectic, I like Rhetoric 20, Archeology and Sociology and I get to leave for vacation 4 days earlier (I know, probably not the most practical reason in the world.

I feel ridiculous because of it, but the class was stressing me out to a point of being unhealthy. Moving up to Berkeley is something huge in my life, living on my own with very few friends is huge, dwindling bank account is huge, and this is one thing that I could do to lighten the load.

(these are the reasons I keep the repeat button held down to hear)

I feel like a fool. I know I shouldn't let other people's perceptions of me effect me, but this one guy in my class was like, "you shouldn't have been so quick to judge the class"
psh.

What this means is that I will most likely not be Rhetoric major. What this means to me is that I'm still ridiculous. Yeah Katie who can never make up her mind.

Well, in other news, I'm actually enjoying living on my own. My apartment is wonderful, I'm especially excited about winter, looking at my window at the cold. I know I'm going to freeze my ass off, but I'm excited.

what can I say, I live though my poetic memory. Right now I'm looking at my hands typing though the thousands of strand s of hair that are covering my face, the wind blowing, and I know that I'm a aesthetic addict. Beauty, why do you trick me?

How do you decide what's important?
How do you decide what to do?

I'm wondering if my "talent" for writing actually stems from the fact that if I want to, I can make my writing fractionally more abstract, thus appearing more artistic.

Here's what I don't want:
dead. dry, no passion, no feeling, a 9-5 kind of mind that looks forward to the one two three paid weeks in the sun, with the job that equals itself, it's nothingness. I don't want sit and watch life go by, I want to swim, and bathe, and rest and run. I want equal parts long days and long nights. I want far off places, and familiar city scapes.
I want New York City, Grand Central Station.


I want Grand Central Station.
Epitome of me.
fluxation, change, a love, a life
not this
pen to the paper to the push to the dollar to the mouth to the bed than start over again kind of life.

travel
kissing.

growth. change.
you've got one chance to get everything right.

I've got 12 minutes till my battery dies.
12 minutes. is what it comes down to

katiebittersweet
the good time are killing me.
Ilove life.