And it's not like I was partying or, like, hooking up with people... or whatever people do that there's a reason to fail stuff.

I was just doing... well, nothing.

Seriously.

And that kills me, because, I mean, I'm not even doing anything for god's sake. I should be drinking or smoking or hitting the clubs and failing... not, you know... riding buses and watching movies by myself and reading (WTF was I thinking/doing anyway?) and then failing miserably.

I just feel horrible. I feel like... like my whole life is this big fat nothing and I have no purpose and just... I don't know.

I was talking to an old friend today (haven't seen her since 7th grade!). She goes to Penn State. And she's majoring in forensic somethingsomething and math and she met some guy and she has these plans... PLANS! For her life, for her future! And they're solid plans and they're real... and it was like she knew exactly what she wanted out of being alive, out of living... like she knew what she was meant for.

Then she asked me how I was, and how I was doing, and I didn't know what to tell her. "I'm at Cal State blahblahnooneknows... I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just going with the flow." And I hated myself.

All that time, I was thinking, when it did it all get to this point?

I wanted to go to Penn State once. I wanted to go to Harvard, even! (EL OH FUCKING EL, RIGHT?). I wanted to meet people. I wanted to... you know... make something of myself. Be someone. Matter at all.

Now, I don't know.

I don't even know how to explain my grades to my parents!

What now?