everything's too bright

i feel like shit. migraines suck, and yet i et them far too often. just looking at my computer screen manke me wince. and the banging is relentless, and i'm completely grossly naeceous. it even makes me unable to spell. and im so fucking exhausted and just want to keel over and collapse for a few days, but i just have so much fucking shit to do, it almost makes me want to say fuck as often as american history x wants to, except i'll whisper it to myself quietly in the corner so as not to disturb my delicate head, and they will scream it as loud as possible at eachother. i want to cry. and then puke. and finally sleep and sleep and sleep. why is it like this? how did it get so thick so fast? why does my body hate me? why do i always have to fucking plan fucking EVERYTHING so that i feel giuilty every moment i leave conditioning, but i have to pull together an amnesty meeting in two seconds, and then babysit yelling kids for four hours while my migraine begins to build and then sit on the fucking Q for half my life and practice far too little so that then i feel guilty and pathetic too and im barely even doing any of the work for applying to college and it eats at me everyday but i always deal with other peoples problems cuz im too fucking fucked up to really say anything my self. i bitch because its normal, but fuck if i let anyone see me cry or break down or loose control, especially me. im the worst at witnessing my own inadequecy. sometimes i think im asking too much of myself - but god know i have nothing if not my own high fucking standards. and i cant help it but not be able to measure up to my dream self but cant help bu want to be that person, and my procrastination is a drug and i feel sick afterwards when i get nothing done because look how it kills me now. i feel too much like crap to even move beyond typing. i wish athena would just bust outta my skull already so that the hammering could go away. oh, to curl up under the comforter and pretend it will all go away if i could just drift into blissful sleep. but onwards (and upwards, i suppose) to better things, and economics and then maybe even some canterbury.