Sometimes I Feel Lame

Sometimes I feel lame. I live [part-time, college-time] in a town full of trains. The kind of town where train whistles are an acceptable measure for telling time. Its a pretty small town, with not a lot to do. Most people get drunk a lot. Sometimes they yell really odd things when they are walking by the dorms. Once in a while, they wake me up.

But its okay. I like my college enough. And I like my friends more. Although, I like the idea of college more than the actual practice of it. I am a little antsy most of the time. Even a little angsty sometimes. So, sometimes I write poems. They can be a little emo, but I do try to avoid it.

I started smoking again this weekend. It was probably a bad idea, but it gives my hands something to do. I never know what to do with my hands when I talk to people.

Today is Sunday. Sunday night. Sunday night at 10:30. I wish I could go to sleep. My dorm is about 150 degrees. My eyes are kind of burning, and I have to keep putting on chapstick so my lips don't crack. The heat is making me sleepy. But I have a paper to write. I really don't know why I chose and English major.