Sister Helen Prejean, CSJ, the author of "Dead Man Walking" gave a speech tonight. I helped with setting everything up before the speech and I did all the post-speech work as well. I'm not sure... Either that is the kind of thing I do all of the time, or else I'd ordinarily never help out like that.
Her speech catered to emotion. She talked harshly against the death penalty in all of its forms.
Her speech made me sick.
Not because it was horrible; on the contrary, I liked it. I found myself agreeing to most every point she raised, if you discount the religious arguments. And at the end, when she was given a standing ovation, I had to physically force myself not to clap for her.
I hated her speech because I found myself liking it.
I haven't slept for nearly forty-eight hours now. Miss Whitmarsh will not be stealing me tonight. I plan on sleeping, and I plan on sleeping well.
My programming teacher reccommended that I try using dhtml on my website. I will try, but first I must look up dhtml and see what it means.
::sigh:: I'm depressed.
I'm not saying that for sympathy. I'm saying that for truth. I'm not asking anyone to feel sorry for me. I'm asking only that others be respectful of my own thoughts and ideas. Don't leave me alone at six-thirty in the morning to fend for myself. Don't leave a note on a Playstation that I won't look at again for weeks upon weeks. Don't talk like Mojo Jojo to me unless you want to be talked at in a strange accent right back at you.
Thank you for the hugs. You know whom you all are. I appreciated it immensely.
I saw Miss Dearman today. I hate to say it, but the sight of her made my insides twist and writhe. I wish I had not seen Miss Dearman today. But I did.
She asked me what would seem to most like an apropriate question. But for me, it was torture. Pure torture.
I almost yelled at her, screamed at the top of my lungs: "Go away, you fool! Don't you see that you are exactly what I hate more than anything else in the entire world! Don't you see that you are the past that I try so very hard to forget!"
But instead I politely answered her question in such a way that she quickly got the idea and went on to talk to other people.
Damn you, Toohey. Damn you for doing what you did to me.
Question: if I ask for a kiss this entry, will I get kissed as much as I was hugged because of my last entry? If so, then I'd like to ask for a kiss. Otherwise, ignore this paragraph and be happy with the fact that even a depressed me is able to smile for some things. (c: