Tuesday, May 11, 1982
All day I was possessed by feelings of weakness, thoughts of failure, and complete doubt about insignificant trivia. I can't help it. Hirst again said I'd be “lucky to get a ‘C.’
Boredom reduced me to ridiculous levels of bullshitting to Mark Pittock, Deborah, and anyone who was listening. I must sound really stupid It's as if I take a part of what I believe and distort and exaggerate until it sounds utterly corny and laughable: Maybe this is a defense mechanism?
In Art we mounted our work for the final assessment. At times today I felt awful: real boredom and inner deadness, feeling overwhelmed by everything. . . .