It's 5.45 a.m. and I’m pissed off at staying up so late again. I’ve been feeling pretty depressed this last couple of days; last night I sat in Westway Loop Bar and spent all my money on five tequilas. Other people seem to get on so well together.
Rowan unsettles me; a while ago she got all het up at Jamie who was hanging around in Barry’s room. “I don’t want to speak to you!” she said to him viciously, the emphasis very much on the you. Then, as a "joke" to piss Russ off, she knocked aggressively on his door and when he opened it she pretended to threaten him with a huge carving knife. This place might drive me into having a breakdown.
Yesterday I sat in the library and read The Autobiography of Malcolm X. The dark, foreboding atmosphere of the book is a little depressing.
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