Abyssal Oblivion Diving

This is the D-double dash...c'mon back to you after a week of nervous anxiety and exaspiration. I spent the week waiting in some sick anticipation for my MCAT scores. It's so difficult to not know about your future. I would want to check my score and then not at the same time. I don't think I could have taken another effin' 28. So I would wait until I built up some resistance to my fear and then checked. All week I was thwarted...30 days my ass. Amongst other things I had a presentation today in my Differentiation and Development course. The presentation went well enough...I made my points and mistakes, but tis most in life. It's kind of tought to present a paper to professors who are experts in the field. Eh, my MCAT came back and it's higher and my writing score was significantly high. I credit to my genius idea to compare and contrast Edison versus Heisenberg. Edison was a hack, don't get me started on one of America's biggest chumps. My nerves have lifted a bit, but now my procrastination has put me in a bind. This comes from my paralytic writing skills. I'm a man that needs inspiration, or else I'll spew some disingenous mess. Thus I waited for my results...which may have killed a bit of my in-state choices. I contacted some former profs in hopes of some decent reccomendation letters. I hate doing this. It's like I'm asking them to inconvenience themselves for me, a guy who did well in one of their classes one semester. I whipped up a brief vitae, just in case. I like to cover my bases. Hopefully they are cool and will float some letter to the med schools next week. Eh, maybe I should view this as a chance to reconnect with old profs. They all seemed genuinely concerned and decent in those classes. I just don't want to be rejected...I can't handle that right now. I've been messed up lately. I'm not attending church at all (can't remember the last time I went for the whole service). God and I don't talk like we used to, or how I believed I talked to him, but am now not so sure. I fear we want to be able to directly talk to an intervening God, because that would be utterly convenient to such powerless beings. But I kind of know God's not the intervening type. I'm not saying to not pray. Compassion is the greatest of things. And if your prayers are of that essence then by all means. But God intervening in your life...don't bet on it. We are on a course of events set in place. No theodicy could justify an intervening God. And I'm not willing to dispense with God. I believe to some extent still. I wonder at times if my life would be more stable if I had opted for the normalcy of many of my former peers instead of battering my hopes and dreams again and again with grim, viscious reality. But I want this. If nothing the suffering through this year should be worth it. My friends are few in this town... And I miss those who were close who are either not so close or too far away to see on a regular basis. I hate not having the time to spend with people whose friendships I care about. October will be better...most tests done, a bit of freedom. I just stared at some girl's breasts. Who knows why? I'm a guy, so maybe that's it. I mean there was really no reason for it at all. I feel awful...some of the people around these days were freshman when I taught high school. Must make it through... The Wire is an astonishingly great show. Bureaucracy sucks but runs everything in a Democracy. I'm about to finish Season 1...and this scene haunts me. D'Angelo screams at Stringer John: "Where the fuck is Wallace." He knew Stringer had his friend with a heart killed. Kind of tears you up. I'm like threshed grain. Always with the books to be and not. Must finish...where...will...I...be? Who will be left after all is over? Will I ever know who I truly am or is all of this some charade of self acting against self?