Lolita was disturbing. Funny, but still disturbing. Let's see if Nietzche is another laugh and a half.

I'm such a damn baby.

I slept only three hours last night, had to cough up cash for college, wondering how I could borrow money to keep going. I need to get out of debt, on top of that. I'm worried that I'll never graduate or that I'll die someday, a huge loser- with a pile of debt that get heaped onto my poor next of kin, and then we'll all be really screwed. Then I thought it would terrible if my dad died, and that my girlfriend was really set on travelling to Disneyworld this year, but I really don't want to go. I mean it. I don't really want to do anything, except lie down and sleep. Now my girlfriend's really anxious because of the trouble she's having, and I try to comfort her, and then I do the most selfish thing I could imagine doing. I started crying.

I sat there, out in the middle of an athletic field, sobbing and feeling bad for myself while everyone else was trying to help me some way or another. I can't take it anymore... I want out. Somehow. But I don't want to die. Sure, it sounds nice, but that's no real help, that just means someone else has to deal with my shit. I can't function this way. Something has to give.

I'll go to the Renaissance Faire tomorrow, because I'm stupid.