My first mistake was letting you into my life.
My second mistake was allowing you into my bed.
My third mistake was loving you more than I should;
I really should know better.
My fourth mistake was sitting with you,
While you told me that you can't do this anymore.
This must be the worst day of my life.
I'm walking home and listening to MP3s.
Just how did I let you decide to destroy me?
I'm missing you.
It crossed my mind that my heart will bleed.
The love that I have left behind is gonna finish me.
It's one of those days.
My sister told me, (paraphrased):
"It's important not to lose yourself in the process."
I feel as though my psychology has become more apparent than ever,
though I'd like to not admit such a thing.
I don't know if I can make the transition between myself and my goal.
I sometimes feel that I didn't grow up fast enough.
I feel like everything's catching up to me.
Welcome to my third year, and I haven't learned anything.
Sometimes, I want to take it all back and start again.
We all know those kids.
You know, the ones that scoff at every mark taken off their exam, and consequently battle to the death with their prof in order to squeeze out every possible part mark.
Today I was one of those kids.
Although I feel a little tainted, I think I had argued with a just cause. I'd had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach since knowing I was half a mark away from the A- cuff.
When going over the exam, I was seeking to find a mistake in the marking. And there it was: Question 4. The answer I had put was suspiciously close to the right one, and had somehow lost most of the available marks.
I thought I was going out on a limb to even get one extra mark, but I was going to present my case and be happy that I tried if I were to walk away empty handed.
There I was, sitting across from Dr. Locke. His brows were furrowed as he stared down at my exam. Then words of relief,
"Well, you obviously knew what you were doing here.. I don't mark the exam, so it's good that you brought this to me."
Not one extra mark, but full marks awarded to my keenery, and that defeating B+ was turned into a glimmer of hope in the shape of an A.
Now I can say with absolute certainty, I'm getting an A in genetics. Bitches.
And to think I wasn't going to go to go school today.
Like many people on this site, I joined nexopia when I was pretty young. Despite the fact that I have perhaps outgrown this specific genre of social media, I have been overcome with the apparent sense of sensibility this site depicts in regards to user "information sharing" and privacy. However, I am becoming more and more aware of the corruption leaking through this site insidiously.
What I am talking about, my fellow nexopians, is that the outlet we use to have our voices heard is becoming riddled with advertisements.
If I were to ask two questions to you, I would ask:
1) How many of you even read these articles passed the first sentence?
And if you do, then,
2)How many of you have noticed that it is just some bozo account trying to sell you crap you don't even need?
I am absolutely appalled at this complete disregard for the human voice in return for a dollar. Nexopia moderators, what the hell? I would've thought that the priorities of this site would be to not only link people, but to also serve as a medium for those people to be heard. I know sometimes it seems that the only thing people write about on this site are their "unfair" parents and/or silly body issues, but the most unfair thing is the fact that those issues are being overshadowed. I would much rather hear a cryptic cry for help than to be sold a link for a better resume, la femme whatevers, etc. etc. etc. Such a cry comes from an honest place, unlike the cry that comes from the want of profit.
I am so sick of reading about how I could do better with the aid of some product or service or whatever I might happen to be exposed to, when I had only the intention of reading something worthwhile (or at least heartfelt) in the nexopia articles.
If you feel the way I do, please support this article. Sure, it's great for money to be made (on however many levels, I do not know as it's way to easy too make a dummy account), but what is the cost?
i think my brain is back in gear. But like a misfolded protein, I feel a little non-functional.
All these sleepless nights are going to gain on me quickly. Perhaps I should ban coffee after 7pm.
The stress of school is so invigorating!
Off for the adventure of a lifetime.
Rock out, riots, and risk. A personal record for pushing my comfort zone a little more to the east.
I'm most excited about smoking pot legally, and looking upon the first evidence of the beginning of life itself.
Look out world, here I come!
A blast from the past on the right-hand side of my screen.
Suddenly I feel not so psychotic for having those recurring dreams,
unfortunately having more to do with feelings of betrayal for having a boyfriend than of some kind of contented nostalgia.
It's one aspect of my psyche that I never understood.
I have method in trying to convince myself I'm all washed off, but emotionally, at times, I am stuck.
Empirical Phaedra argues the significance of drug-induced bonding through oxytocin release;
and there was a lot of that at times.
So then my mind should be absolved of worry
and my stomach relieved of pain from the sight of your virtual encounter.
Alas, I continue to punch myself in the gut, thinking at some point I'll run out of discomfort.
You can just call me a straight-A spring motherfucker.
Honours Physiology, look out, cuz here I come!
again.
I hope...
I'm living in an example of repeating trends.
Can somebody tell me why all of the popular house music
sounds like it's straight out of the 80's?
If I wanted that stuff, I'd be listening to Cindy Lauper,
not Underworld, or M83.
Guilty as charged!
I guess it's back to square one...again.
