Diary of a schizophrenic

Entry Seven

4.10.2013

Dear Diary,

Today I had Arts for the first time since I started going to this weird place. Our professor is a middle-aged petite ginger woman who insists on being called Mrs.D.

I really don't know what to think of that.

For the whole lecture (1.5 hours to be precise) she only -and I do mean only- talked about herself. All she did was blabber on about her homeless teenage years, her boyfriend dumping her and her parents disowning her because of the already mentioned boyfriend. She told us how she lost all the faith and hope but then found herself again in the beauty of art. Oh and behold for her next statement that truly is golden. I quote :''I consider myself a gift to modern Art''.

Just because she paints a few deeply disturbing and obviously mental-patient-level pictures ( I'm experienced in the field of mental-patient-levels) she thinks she's a gift? To art? Not even geniuses like Michelangelo and da Vinci promoted themselves like this up-tight little minion. People here are really freaking annoying, itchy annoying.

Ugh, I can't talk about things that make me want to spoon my eyes out anymore. I didn't have poetry class today so I didn't see Josh. I did see him,however, yesterday. We kept on smiling at each other which got extremely weird after the second smile-athon (smile-athon/smile marathon,get it?). You're a diary, why am I asking you questions in the first place? There,another question. 

Jake was sitting next to me, this time we didn't talk because he was too busy drawing something in his notebook and I was too busy eyeing Mr-goldy-not-so-curly-anymore locks.

I do not know why i named his at all but I seem to give up on explaining things so easily lately. Those things include my emotions, but what do you expect from an emotionally unstable person? Okay, I think we should just approve of my questions for you and treat them as a normal thing that will be repetitive.

I find that Jake and Josh are the exact opposite of each other. Jake all handsome and mysterious but also kind of talkative and Josh the golden boy, cute and intelligent but there seemed to be a hint of mystery in him that I find myself strangely drawn to. In a curios way, not any other way. Funny how I keep psychoanalyzing people I barely know and manage to do okay where as to I can't even put my momentary emotions on paper. 

After the lecture Josh told me he enjoyed our book reading on Saturday and that he couldn't wait for our next ''club'' meeting.

I was moderately okay with it. I was making friends after all and that was important to me. Besides, my old ones weren't exactly peachy-pies and unicorn-flies.

I feel like everything could go wrong any minute. Everything could just explode and fall apart and I'll be my old schizophrenic self again. My old crazy-self,as people would call me. Growing up I never really cared but what made me care now? Was it the medication? Was it normal for normal people to care about what other people think? Were we so shallow to only exist within the four walls other people built around us? Their words molding our souls into little disheveled scorned balls of future generations..

I don't want that feeling around me. I want shelter, the same I felt with Josh the other night. It all felt so incredibly real, almost like a safety bubble wrapping around us and by each moment getting stronger and unbreakable. But like everything else, it broke,too easy,too soon. My fear of him finding out was consuming me, sucking me inside the black hole that once was my sanity.

I decided that I don't like feelings anymore.