Why is it that people get in weird funks around the last third of summertime?
For the past few weeks I've had little motivation to do anything. It's like being in quick sand and throwing up your arms to say, "Oh well. What's the point in fighting it?"

I don't feel like hanging out with friends or calling my brother and sister (why can't they call me?!) or working or making small talk with that man in the elevator. I. Just. Don't. Care. And while I'm not caring, I'm freaking out that I'm graduating in May and simultaneously trying to calm myself. Stay in the moment. Deep breathes. Stay in the moment.
I had a good cry last night. What I was crying about is not important, but as I started crying I thought about how good it felt. Man, I haven't done this in while, I thought.


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