A sudden self-destructive urge consumed my Friday and Saturday. I'm at Java's lying on a comfy couch alone, pondering, regretting, and full of self-hate. Drinking Pepsi. Not coffee. Never coffee. Wearing purple under gray. What the hell am I doing here, I ask myself. Just give me some wine and free time. No classes, no projects, no jobs, no responsibilities. I want to be 55 already - jump over my professional highs and lows. Retire into a carefree life. Yesterday I told someone I'm 22. Took me a few seconds to calculate and then corrected myself. How lost am I these days!? What is wrong with me?!?!?! I thought Canada was good enough - do I need another break already? What the hell. A woman is staring at me. What is her problem. She doesn't have any legs. I saw turtles can fly again. alexandria why? can't do that again. maybe tomorrow morning. have to buy cigars, and baby shoes, and mom's sweater, and car fragrance lemon flavor, and chocolates, and wash clothes. eat. i should eat too. i think i'll go home now. but what will i do there? it's better to be pathetic at home than in public, don't you think. i miss london. its funny because i've never been. the devil me is cooking up an evil plan of sending me to london for a co-op next summer. what could be better. especially at such a time of a personal and professional crisis. if only i could get some nicotine in my system.