I can't write my paper now becuase the tree outside is too distracting. I cant stop staring at it as it is thrown about in the wind. my room on the 4th floor shows me th top of the tree
(i had to stop typing a moment, a painful twitching began in my left hand)
The branches are moving wildly. and at times the entire tree is pushed so far to the left that it lamos tleaves te view of my window. It is so close that if it were not for the glass i would try to reach out and touch it.

I took my paper to the english office today, and submitted it for that thing . . . my mind is screaming that i probably wont get it published. I feel really idiotic about it all right now.

I blew a bubble and it floated through the air till it collided with my screen and popped. It left a circle of droplets before me, of the brightest and strangest shades of red blue and green. It is as though the soapy mixture was a sort of prism for artificial and technological colors.

7 days are left of classes, then all that is left is exams, then i go home.
I feel sick to my stomache, quite literally at the prospect.
At home I will have a job, at home i wont be able to curse. at home I wont be able to smoke or drink without elaborate subterfuge. I cant be open about my personality, beleifs, or sexuality there. I wont have much contact with some of my new and close friends there.
This weekend I will be cleaning out my desk and throwing away junk in preparation for moving back home. it feels like such a foreign place. I cant be rooted anywhere. it is not allowed for the next few years. I am not sure i will ever be.
just flapping around in the incesant wind out my window