Addicted to sambusas.

Consciously sacrifice.

"Sometimes I am inundated with things to do and want to do so many of them that I can't decide on one, and eventually my decision is made for me. This is an alarmingly passive way to live, this waiting until you have no choice, like waiting until you get laid off to leave a job you hate. You let external forces eliminate your need to choose instead of making the choice yourself and taking responsibility for the consequences. It is a life lived by default."

 To do: Stop living your life by default.

It's barely Week 1 and I already feel the need to eat to compensate for the lack of happiness accompanied by studying.

Come on, Emily.

It's hard to be a strong, independent woman with period cramps.

My dad will always make the best eggs.

Bucket list: to present a speech as moving and fluently as Emma Watson.

"If not me, who?
If not now, when?"

I'm constantly changing.

Is it too much of me to want you to feel the guilt and remorse that comes with all your words, actions, and decisions? I want you to know that you affect me with the simplest roll of the eye. I want you to recognize the pain and hurt associated with me. I want you to think about how I feel for once--put me first when it matters most to me.

I used to wave away these feelings, tell myself I didn't matter as long as you were happy, but you told me otherwise. Now I'm just tired... of thinking, keeping it all in like a massive reservoir of negative emotions. My walls are cracking and you're not helping the least bit.

What do I do when talking to you doesn't work--when trying is no longer beneficial to me or to you? Is this the end? Helplessness again?

Sigh, pizza didn't even help. Nor did tacos. Maybe I'm having another one of those attention-deficient days. Maybe we should all become dogs... or burritos... or sea lions. Yeah, sea lions.