This is probably as good as a diary at this point, since I've been writing in my tumblr. I wrote letters. Lots of them. To everyone. They were too honest. But I'm here and they aren't and there is nothing I can do but be here. (I only wish that was really my attitude).
How many times have I talked about rabble rousing and my overwhelming desire to be a part of something big and important, how many documentaries have I watched on Vietnam protests in mad-city, asked "uncle" Paul and Phil about their rabble rousing days. I know, I know, Kenya is cool and important bla bla bla. I am too tired and discouraged. I am too nervous about leaving for my internship. I used to be good at writing about things.