I feel so ordinary. So inadequate. I'm averaging credits in university and receive comments with my essays deflating any belief in talent I thought I had with writing. Apparently, I don't make sense when I write and I can't relate my answers to the essay topic. It stings, it really does. Especially because in high school I could ace essays by bullshitting my way through them with what I thought was writing-skill. Alas, it's not to be. Maybe I've lost that single spark that came so close to a skill over the last couple of months. I don't know.

I'm looking forward to the weekend even if nobody wants to see me and even if it will be mainly full of study for my history exam on Tuesday. I need to have hours and hours to sleep because dreams are the best way to escape times that are miserable and unsatisfactory.