I apologize for my last entry. But I guess I am feeling rather mopey today- even a nap couldn't change that.

"I'm sure I could be a movie star

If I could get out of this place."

"They're sharing a drink they call loneliness,

But it's better than drinking alone."

Oh, so true. Well, yesterday was a good day. Like pink Starburst. But I'm not quite sure if today has even qualified as lemon Starburst. Lowly lemon Starburst. Today might be something like Milk Duds. If the candy reference even quite fits such blah crumminess.

I know, I know. I say this all the time- I'm a shell of my former self. Whoever I am now, it isn't me, and it is certainly my fault. I'm not in grad school right now because a) I have no money b) I was scared shitless (the old "I suck, what the hell was I thinking even auditioning for this school?" mantra and c) I thought I could use these months to acquire money and get rid of the old "I suck, yadda yadda" disease. And to become happy again. True, I do have a stupid job that gives me few hours and pays chump change, but it is money. But it's not enough money. I'm still scared. Scared of that amazing (far away!) school and the brilliant people there and of the fact that I have seriously practiced my flute on a regular basis in over two months. It disgusts me to no end that I have no energy or motivation to do the one thing I was reasonably good at, anymore. And of course, all summer I shuffled along, blindly, looking for the happiness that I craved. When all the time it was two feet away and I was too stupid and shy and stubborn and scared to do anything about it. My sister has always told me that I can't be happy unless I help myself. I don't think I can anymore. I keep feeling like I'm just a constant annoyance to people and am just too boring to be thought of on a regular basis. Justifiably forgotten, if you will. As much as I hate the telephone, sometimes I want to hear people's voices.... :(

"... sometimes words have no meaning."

Sorry, I'm obviously abusing the old mammoth playlist of mine. Music is my only comfort, and yet a source of extreme pain. The rock AND the hard place that I am wedged between.

But that's inconsequential, compared to the one thing I really want to say- the thing that is on the tip of my tongue (or in this case, my fingertips). Stupid, shy Sarah can never say it, however. I have to wait for things, or people, to fall into my lap. I've been waiting for quite a while, maybe even since January. Do you see why everything is my own stupid fault? Two feet away from happiness, and I am rooted to the spot, unable to move. Two feet away.

I'm sorry for all the gloominess. I hate bringing people down. I hate it when people are sad. Sometimes I want to cut off my left arm to help them. But without two arms, how can I even begin to help myself?

"Can anybody find me somebody to love?"

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