Sorry I've been gone a few days. Just not having an awesome time at the moment. But don't you worry guys.
Anyway.
So in my English class, we're currently reading the book One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey. For those of you who haven't read it, it's a book on how mental asylums were in the United States in the 1950's and 60's from the point of view of a paranoid schizophrenic.
It's a good story, sure. I haven't read a word of it, much to Av's dismay because it's apparently fantastic and beautiful and all that cool stuff. But I literally cannot read it. I can't bring myself to read it or want to read it. I don't like looking at it. For my own mental health, I just can't do it.
I have a bad enough time in class. Literally daily we talk about these people and patients and things that were happening to them. We talk about mental illness and the horrible things that were going on in these hospitals and just...
It's not beautiful. Stop romanticizing that it's beautiful.
It's not beautiful when class every day reminds me of how much I dislike me.
I can't take it. I can't stand this novel. It hurts every day we're reading it and it hurts more thinking about what could have been done to me then if I had been alive.
And we're watching this movie in a week.
I might just break down.
I can't deal with this class anymore. I really can't.
Sorry I tried to make this educational but it just ended up in me ranting.
Blah.
I'll be back soon maybe.
This journal is almost done.
Markie out. (demiboy)