Sunday, 09/12/04 - 9:35 pm.
Irene came over, and we designed a project. She stayed for dinner, and then I drove her home. A bunch of lame guys were in a car next to mine on my way back home, and they stared at me. I stared back at them, and only afterwards it ocurred to me that I could've mouthed "whore" at them. They're the type of guys I loathe, and one day I'll get my revenge.
I've started my Freud essay. I'm finishing a paper. I have a design for the project in which I'll work with kids. I've done a lot of things today. Useful things, and I'm very glad about that.
I kind of miss my days of self-destruction. Part of me wishes I could die like Virginia Wolf. It's the death wish kicking back in, my old friend. I kind of miss cutting myself, especially when I feel like this and when I start reminiscing certain things...but I have a Joseph and an Angel to think about (not my family, really, because after all, they'd never find out -not that there's something wrong with it-).