Our English orals were quite catastrophic today, being inhabited by Willis and Frank (two boys who don't talk), to the point where Ms. Barret asked (tactfully) if anyone would like to join the discussion group. I do feel sorry for Willis though because he seems to have some strange discussion-phobia thing going on- common sense would dictate that when a teacher asked you, "Would you like to comment on (such and such)" you'd at the least decline the offer, instead of sitting in mute silence for a few minutes. Maybe it's just really hard for him; he was going through the same discussion anxiety in physics today that I was going through in physics on Tuesday. The discussions are a lot harder than presentations because you can't really prepare what you're going to say ahead of time; it's like your own private seminar hell, or like someone's pitching baseballs at you for 45 minutes straight and you have to scramble to catch each one, or like balancing a pitcher of water on your head.

You know what? I still can't spell "incandescant." E... Angie.. e...

It's been a normal day, but I've been feeling funny. Sort of like a violin string that's been wound too tightly. I don't know why. It's the day after Thanksgiving Break and everyone's all relaxed and in a good mood, except for me. I have this 'black rising wave of panic' feeling going on, which sounds like something off of Nick's Goth Quote Generator, except it's true. It comes and goes, and I don't know why, and it makes me nervous. It's creepy. I remember yesterday squelching some unpleasant memory. I was thinking, "I never want to remember this for the rest of my life, but it's not like I can consciously block out my memories, so the best thing to do is not think of it." So I didn't think of it. Except today, when I remembered that I was supposed to be Not Remembering and Not Thinking About something. I've been trying to remember it, and going through all the bad memories and deeds I've had that could possibly make me want to black it out, because in order to face this panic thing, I've got to cast some light on its source. But for the life of me I can't remember what It was. Maybe it's a blessing. Apparently I can have selective amnesia.

I don't want to write my Samizdat Satanism article. Because in order to do that I'll have to go back to the Church of Satan page, and it "fills me with fear and wonder". Because it makes Satanism look moral, and it's very rational, simple, intelligent and humorous. I'm not Christian, but I have this feeling of looking into this deep dark cold (dammit, maybe it's because my computer's in the basement) pool, before diving in and losing my soul. I'm nuts. I'm fucking nuts. But I don't want to do this.

Jesus, someone save me.