17/02/2003 - 10:10 p.m.

Somewhere a Queen is weeping.

There were tour groups going around campus today, and I may be wrong, but I thought I saw Ren out of the corner of my eye. A sort of, hmmm, that could be her, but probably it isn't so don't stop and stare, just keep walking. So, if it was you, sorry Ren, but you should've dropped me an e-mail, I'd've given you a proper tour.

This evening I ended up talking to Q all about Acting class and all the troubles I'm having in there. They're not so much troubles as emotional difficulties. We'd done this exercise in that class- you visualise a strawberry plant. You can do this too, visualise a strawberry plant. See everything about it, notice the root system, notice the soil underneath, take in every detail of the plant. Now, that strawberry plant is a representation of yourself.

Well, this is all very well and good, unless you are the lone dead strawberry in the class.

This is a re-iteration of everything that I know already. This is the reason I'm taking the class, to find out how to fix all this. I know what's wrong already, but how do I make it better? That's what I want to know. So, I figure I need to talk to Richard- which is going to be interesting.

His word for it is "emotional constipation". I haven't experienced a real emotion for years. I've had them, but I haven't experienced them. Everybody does it, for one reason or another, push something out of the way. Now, I'm not talking about go to your therapist and whinge about how your life sucks emotion, I mean theatrical type emotion.

The analogy is this- what does a baby do when it's hungry, or scared, or angry? It cries until something takes care of what's wrong with it. As soon as the baby gets what it wants, it's happy again. When we grow up, for one reason or another we get taught not to do that, we no longer get instant gratification, we may never get gratification, so we just don't do anything. When we do that, we layer all of these emotions inside us.

Basically, I need emotional e-lax. Talking about it isn't working, I actually need to do something about it all. I guess this is where you get that school of people who just do things. They get impulses and they go for them. This is not entirely right, but I wish I could live more like that.

So, at the moment, I'm very fragmented. Part of me is counting down the days until Spring Break. Part of me is hoping beyond hope that the movie title to describe my life need no longer be Never Been Kissed. Part of me tells me I'm crazy. Part of me tells me that all my purple tinged dreams and impractical schemes can come to nothing. Part of me is very glad I don't drink. Part of me wants to get blind drunk. Yet another part of me tells me that there is absolutely nothing the matter with me, I just want there to be so that I have something to whinge about.

The one thing all my fragments agree on? They all want to get scooped up, brushed off and connected back up again.