i just read baudelaire's "a heroic death," and it struck me as so odd, i had to come write about it. i'll have to read it again, but the thing i really don't understand is how fancioulle dies. but it struck me as particularly tragic and scary that the prince's enemy was ennui, and that is why he became so cruel and despotic, in an attempt to control everything, so that he would be the one who engineered all the surprises.

having been battling ennui lately, i have to watch out for this too... i have probably been a crappy friend because of my boredom. however i hope that my inner disposition would prevent me from being cruel simply for the sake of entertainment. except perhaps to myself.

i wasn't going to write about this, but i had the unfortunate experience of seeing the boy's girlfriend yesterday (which is not all that uncommon) and being forced to listen to her talk (which is thankfully uncommon) about her two tiffany's rings that were bought for her by him. i refused to choke down my pride and join the conversation, preferring instead to enjoy the tortorous world in my head.

i saw the boy the other day, too, which i purposely didn't want to mention, but now i will. it caught me by surprise as i ran into him on my own turf. we exchanged hellos and i continued on my way, but i was shaking for a while afterwards.

it's not that i miss him anymore, or that i am jealous of her. it's just that i don't understand what it is about me that makes me not good enough.

i guess that's how my entire thought pattern has been working lately after the fulbright and carnegie rejections, and after realizing that i don't even know any boys who i am remotely interested in in any sort of romantic way... i have become caught up in this whole "what's wrong with me?" mentality, and it's not really fun.

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