Today I did something strange.
I walked out of school, called my piano teacher, cancelled my piano lessons, and went walking.

I would have walked forever, save for the fact that my mother told me that if I wasn't home by four she would come out looking for me.

I was looking for solace and meaning and rest in this insanity, and something beyond that which I CANNOT explain because there is a missing piece here and I am so so arrogant and so so insecure and all the psychological definitions in the world can never define me.

I. hate. modern. life.
I hate the lack of passion.

What is passion?
What are we passionate about?
Why do we bother with everything else?

Things to fucking do:

- [check] Alex's birthday present.
- email Claire/[check]Jesse/Ms. Matthews/[check]Madame Ferey.
- [check] French homework.
- Psych vocab.
- [check] start reading The Great Gatsby.
- [check] study for Catcher in the Rye test.
- find some solace.
- [check] apologize to mother.
- practice piano.
- practice Madrigals pieces.
- freak out about All-District, ALL-COUNTY?!
- Renaissance Faire?
- think about future finances. Wish money grew on trees. Car, college, summer camp, [check] New York, prom dress, etc, etc.
- work on Girl Scout Gold Award.
- find out about AP classes over the summer.
- apply to Interlochen.
- find some solace.
- [check] shower.
- [check] vacuum.
- [check] clean room.
- burn laptop.
- lose fifty pounds. I wonder if I could survive like that. Not that I would actually try.
- weigh myself. Eventually.
- tear off skin.
- miss Alex.
- find Alex.
- change the world.