little bit crazy, little bit blind

People are taking days off school, I'd like to more than anything but I can't miss class or the knot of panic and dread in my stomach will get worse. I waver between feeling pathetically self-righteous that I do my work as soon as possible and so don't have to take days off and wondering why people who leave all their maths homework til the last minute do better than me on tests.

Sometimes I don't know why I bother trying so hard. It doesn't seem to afford me any pleasure or any sort of advantage.

I shouldn't be allowed to write when I'm in a mood like this, but I do anyway, because I don't have anything else that I can do. Can't cry, can't talk to anyone, can't punch things because it'll wake the family. Can't write poetry, can't write music, can't bring anything out but randomised thought that isn't even real.

( Good for me, huh? )

I hate myself like this.