I feel like I write about the same things day after day. My writing skills, instead of getting better, have been digressing. I've gotten in a bad habbit of writing fragments, and I throw to many words into sentences that don't need them. Plus, I use a lot of the same ways of starting sentences over and over. Blech. It drives me insane. I guess a bit part of that is because I have a very good friend who aslo writes often about his life, but he makes such a standard about having good writing worth reading that I feel I should do the same. But I don't live up to my own standards for writing. Maybe I've turned too far from my heart and have tried more to just impress whoever might stumble across my blog.

Anyway, today I think I was kind of a jerk to Kristin (my roommate). She was trying to study, and I started playing music on the computer because she was hooking up her discman. After she decided she wasn't getting anything accomplished, she started trying to ask me about how cold it was outside (since I had already been outside today) and who rented the movie from the library. Instead of giving her nice patient answers, I threw my, 'I don't know and don't care' type answers at her. She went to the library to study. If she's in a bad mood today, I havn't helped it at all, and have probably caused a bit of it. I think I'm going to try to watch that more today, because there's no point in throwing my unexcitedness for the day at her.

I've been reading a lot of blogs/diaries this morning. It seems so much like no one updates anymore. That's okay, I mean- I don't expect updates from them much anyway, but I do wonder what happens in people's lives these days. It's nice to know what's happening in their lives because I care about them, because many of them I don't often get a chance to talk to these days, and because for a moment it lets me escape from my own life here and see the world through someone else's eyes. I suppose if I started talking to people on campus more, I wouldn't need so much to know what's happening in other people's lives back home, or in Canada, or in Wisconsin or Washington. However, the few times I have gotten close to people here, we've drifted apart, or we just stopped talking so in depth. And, as much as I want to just get back on my feet and try to find other people to socialize with, the dissapointment of loosing that hint of closeness with someone over and over again discourages me sometimes.

The trees outside are all blooming with flowers. In Minnesota, there were never this many flowery trees in one spot. They really are beautiful, and the smell carries across campus. It's like a fantasy, with petals falling from the branches and being swept off into the breeze. In my mind, I see myself sharing this beauty with someone who will sit and appreciate it with me. We sit on a patch of grass, and watch the petals fall into the lives of the passerbys. I draw them, the magic of the moment being caught on a single peice of paper. Except, my fantasy isn't reality, and I still don't have a sketchbook.

There are three weeks left of school. With all the ruckus I've felt over the past few months, I feel exceedingly calm right now. Wheather or not I decide to transfer next year, it doesn't matter right now. Outside of fighting off the loneliness I'm feeling, and enjoying the beauty of new life around me, not much else does matter. I'm surviving the days partly in reality and partly in my dreams. The things that used to matter so much, like if the guys on the floor below me would ever fall in love with me and why I wasn't having instant good friends, aren't mattering so much now. Learning how to not let the people of the world rule my life, I've been trying to find how to make my own decisions basing them on my own needs and desires. Selfish as it may be, I've realised I can't focus my life on the potential love of the people around me, but rather I have to find who I am and share that with the world.

I'm spacing out again. Everything I just thought has been cleared from my head, and it makes me feel almost empty inside. That's been happening more regularly these days. I don't want to tone down my wishes and desires for the world around me, and I'm trying so hard not to give in and dream less. But so often it's easier to stop thinking about everything than to think too much about it. When thinking and dreaming is so much a part of who I am, it feels like in a search to find msyelf I'm sacrificing too many of my dreams. I'm giving into the world, and starting to listen when it tells me that I dare to dream too much. My heart, trying to be wild and free is being tamed... and I need to start fighting back again.