The sight of all those bloomin’ red roses and pink hearts all over campus makes me sick. 

And so another Valentine’s Day shall come and go, and I will not have had a date. It really is just another day to me. Woe is me. 

 

So what else is new?

 

Well, nothing much.  

School life has been pretty much unchanging. Political Science classes continue to be as dry as ever, but I must persevere with it because of what my family background must entail.

 

As for my latest sculpture, I have sort of gotten the facial features and the jaw line, but I still can’t quite seem to decide if it’s a male or a female. Or maybe it’s both. What a joke.

 

Fortunately though, this week at school has been rather quiet overall. I have been keeping to myself, whether consciously or unconsciously; hiding, and making myself scarce and elusive. It’s mainly just to avoid <del>running</del> limping into people I don’t want to see. And guess who’s at the top of that list? Mr Popular, Mr My-Mission-In-Life-Is-To-Make-Anton’s-Miserable-Life-Even-More-Miserable. Or, more exactly, To-Get-Everyone-Human-Or-Otherwise-To-Kiss-My-Ass-Especially-The-Pretty-Girls. I think you know I’m referring to you, Gaston de Beaumont. I'd rather not have to see you around school at all, but I suppose this city is too small for me not to.



I drift between the University and the mansion as always. Never really here, nor there, nor anywhere. The one place I am truly  <i>in</i> all the time is my own head; trapped, with only my self-destructive thoughts for measly company. As always, all alone, and lonely.