Giving up

on the bookstore/USPS. I surrender. I'm headed there myself to pick books like berries. They best all be there. I'd like to dedicate this to whoever made words like areola/clitorus/perineum. I can't pronounce them, but I like to try. I don't think school is teaching me things. I feel like this schedule is my dumbest yet, with few exceptions. It's just that the English classes feel more and more watered down and I don't think I've chosen very well in my life plan. I don't know definitions. Communicating is like using a coffee filter to strain the liquid from yogurt. College was always more a middle-ground for me than any specific catalyst to a life and money. The next step. A place to figure out my life. And now my life is here/coming and I have ideas but the time is sort of ending. Someone should have warned me money's all that matters. Oh matter.