Underwent a Reconstruction today. Confused, vision occasionally blurred, no sense of balance all morning, twitching, extreme paranoia and music galore, it's not the most pleasant of experiences but I'm somehow aware that it's much, much better than the alternative. Woke up for real sometime during math with a polished ego and a rubber bubble glurbing angrily in the back of my mind. The point is I'm feeling better.
Depression is something I do my best to keep to myself. I know full well that if I don't get better myself Skeleton will intervene before too long, so it's not worth dragging other people into. Life's too short to spend it miserable.
How am I doing? Anthropology is excruciatingly slow, biology not much better. Math is easy but tedious, at least for now. I handed in my second Lit project today. I'm still not writing to my fullest potential. Writing practice today:
6: An eye without a pupil, green as emeralds, dark and pure as sin itself, far from stupid but not quite understanding.
7: The ivory tower, golden brown as a field of wheat, flawed yet unbreakable, the idiot hero who somehow always wins.
9: A cube without a purpose, red as a robins bloodstained feather, innocent yet hated, the helpless bystander left holding the explosives.
4: A shadow in night, deep and merciful blue, inescapable as death, the only one who can wear a cape and mean it.
Actually that's not quite how 4 went, but I forget.
My. Fitzpatrick described me as "the really quiet one, the observer... he's got it all figured out." He likes me. He thinks I'm smart. That's going to be a boon for me.
I'm sorry... should have just kept quiet. Forget about it. It's over for now.
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