Monday 2:19 am
God, it's nearly 2:30 in the morning. I've drunk 5 cups of tea, spilled half a cup of tea on the floor and on my pajamas. I'm wired, feeling sort of drunk and demented all at once.
And the fact is, maybe I am
going insane. Maybe it's because I'm nervous about going home, or nervous about trying to keep all my long-distance friendships alive and active.
But the fact is, I'm not even sure if I can maintain conversations anymore. I feel so far removed from, well, everything. I don't really have any idea what to say, or what's appropriate, or what's funny or makes me well-liked or disliked and I'm feeling totally lost.
Have I somehow "lost" it without even really realizing it?
I mean, crap, I feel like a paranoid demented asshole, but people even being away-from-keyboard suddenly makes me wonder whether I'm bad or other words I can't think of at 2 am.
Do people watch my videos? Or read my extensively long and verbose posts even if they don't comment? Why am I suddenly feeling like I'm dangling out in the breeze solo?
Or like everything is just so much more work
. It still feels worth it, but I'm resenting what feels like an uphill climb. I'm almost... afraid... to come home?
I guess too that it's the feeling of impotence of being so limited in my modes of communication. When does one give up? One unanswered email? One week of no replies? Two times of no AIM replies?
Being bad at keeping in touch does not make someone a bad person, but how can you discern being bad at keeping in touch with not wanting
to keep in touch.
I'm full of heavy caffeine, and my head is swirling. Feel free to disregard this post, that is, unless you're already disregarding it.
*******************Entirely Unrelated Note:
Shege ate my deodorant today. They don't sell deodorant here. In addition to leprosy, I might become smelly. Which is worse?
Also, photos have been uploaded. Check Out:Week Thirty Two PhotosetWeek Thirty Three PhotosetMany Chimpanzee Videos