Tuesday, May 11, 1982

No fun

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. . . .

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