Hello, again.

Okay,s o I guess I won't give this up completely. But it is all going to be depressing stuff. I'll try to write positive some times.

Got the King's College Magazine today. Those magazines you get from the universities you've attended. Notice some faces. Clare Brant, 18th century specialist of literature, in her usual purple and black shirt ensemble, with plain black slacks. A medallion of some sort hanging on her neck. Never saw her in any other two colours, but purple and black. Some dinner the literature department was at. The whole magazine detailing how great they are. All the things the university does. I don't mind it of Point Park -- I love that university (college, when I was there) -- feel solemn reading King's College. Large magazine it is, with a Lord on the cover as the piece de resistance. An article about Virginia Woolf's time at the college; how a student home inspires one, playing with Woolf's A Room of One's Own. I was least happy in my dorm room. It was London that I wanted. I don't completely hate reading this magazine, but makes me rather sad. Everything makes me sad these days.

I feel so alone. I feel like there is good out there, and I tried to find them, and couldn't (either because I'm lame or I just didn't come across them) and I may never. I may end up just living life half-feelingly and then die. And I don't feel safe. There is not one place I can go where I feel completely safe. I have no Tiffany's. No one person who I feel I can say anything to. No Knightley. But life doesn't have Tiffany's or Knightley's maybe; only literature. Literature as the vessel that shows more of what can be, rather than what is. I just need to learn that there will always be conflict in my life -- I will never be completely secure, life does not provide that -- with any place or person, but that that is not a bad thing. That I will find place and people that I feel as secure with as a person can. And if I haven't found those places yet, there is still time.