i can only dream of her realizing that i have not just noticed her in recent times. either she truly believes i'm going to phase out on this crush, of which she thinks is fantastically over-exaggerated, or she just WISHES i would phase out, because she wouldn't have anything to do with me.

culminating the feelings of past years into a present-time streamline of emotions, she could just crush me by saying, "no way." but that hasn't been said, and i'm not good at taking hints, so i don't know what to think.

i used to indulge myself in times of upliftment by eating bowls upon bowls of cereal. but my cupboards are empty, and i have grown a distaste for lucky charms, waffle crisp, and fruity AND cocoa pebbles. the horror. what am i ever going to do?

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i wish roger and i weren't always so worried about doing homework, because i really want to write this graphic novella about the subtle romanticisms of a mexican landscaper, and roger would be the perfect person to illustrate it, but fuck. things do not work that way. he is married to his academics, and i am cheating on my sole obligation to homework by having an affair with drowsiness and wasting time.

this sounds like another pointless project, another gay endeavor that i wish to undertake, but i'm inspired to see what it could turn out to be. maybe i could send the novella as a zine, like all the cool, online emo kids do. but i'm not emo - at least, i'm pretty sure i'm not. AND IF HANNAH IS READING THIS, YES, I WILL BRING BACK THE CD'S. I JUST KEEP FORGETING THEM. I'M NOT PURPOSEFULLY BEING AN ASSHOLE. PLEASE BELIEVE ME.

it seems that i've been asking a lot of people to "please believe me," but no one wants to hear my plea.

"fuck" is the wrong word, but it's the first word that comes to mind.