Uptight.

Admittedly, I have been uptight as well. Due to a severe bombing of a calculus test, an unwittingly erroneous chemistry test, and a slowly choking hate for BS (brain storming, Mr. Wright said. Why the face.), my handwriting has degenerated to a tense scrawl and my incessant doodling has expanded to illustrating the workings of the universe (and I almost never dare to probe those fabrics...).

I'm almost fascinated by the genius inside me when what my body needs even more than many packets of instant coffee is a week of sleep. My depressing pseudo Chinese calligraphy might be able to pass of as flairs of expert minimalist design, and truly, truly, the truth inside every lie just bleeds itself onto my APUSH notes that I use to not fall asleep. I'm writing poems and puns off the top of my head and as I read my friends' college essays, I become the boss of epigrams and wit and wisdom.

Just kidding.

But honestly, I feel like my brain is working on double speed on everything except physics, french, math, chemistry, critical reading, and history, which are basically the only things my parents and school actually command me to know.

And so I thank God that its absolutely beautiful outside. If I couldn't run off this insanity, there would be no being still. In a way, its not okay that I depend almost exclusively on a particular 5 to 8 miles every day to ground my prayer, yet I can't help but think this is God's way to humble me. At my proudest moments, He breaks me (so cruelly with that calc quiz today...) and shames me until I learn the disciplines (which I seem to after years..), but at my worst, the pound of the gravel (actually, it should be the elasticity, not pound, because pound implies heel-striking) has always been available with the lilac sunset or otherwise refreshingly beating sun and woolen clouds.

So goodness, calm down. I can't tell you this over and over like I want to because no one listens to anything except experience, because the important life lessons are ones that have to hit you hard first. But man, I know life might be hard sometimes, but a harried rush to class to get there three minutes before it starts and constant drowning in chemistry homework won't fix anything. As unmanageable junior year seems, trying to avoid the teacher's irkings (which by the way, are directed towards the entire class, not you or anyone in particular) and beating yourself up is probably one of the worse ways to calm down. Chill. We're all in this together. I lost an electron, I'm positive. Peeta kneaded the dough. I tried to catch some fog but I missed. Life is so very good, and this isn't even the real one.