I got attacked by a band of hippies on Sproul (a plaza, not a drug) today and was forced into taking and wearing a black armband to show my non-support of the war. I feel like an animal that’s been tagged and re-released into the wild. If you talk to me and I seem a little woozy, it’s just that the tranquilizers are still wearing off.
Happy Valentine’s day, also. It’s odd – the past two years I have had miserable times because I wasn’t with someone and really wanted to be. This year I am with someone, who is wonderful, and you know what? This day still isn’t so special. Or possibly this goddamn depressing black armband is just bringing me down.