Her Balcony.

I remember I'd said that keeping busy is key to avoiding unhappiness.
Maybe that's not necessarily true, because I've been very busy, this week.
I've been spending two to three hours home, because when I'm not attending classes, I'm filling out applications, and when I'm not filling out applications, I'm attending classes.

I'm also convention-tired. Everyone's been raving about ACEN for about a week or so, and I'm just a little burnt-out about hearing about it. I used to attend Kindergarten with a boy named Michael Castor who drew in his journal only about a time his father took him to see a drag race. Miss Murashiro, my teacher, said, "Michael, there are things other than Drag Racing."
It's a lot like that. There are things other than ACEN.

Charles is here, too. He insulted my sister and I before he left, so I'm not pleased to see him.
Part of me wants to say, "You're a deadbeat and an idiot. Get leaving, and quit pretending we're on good terms."
But he's happy, and covered in motor-oil. He asked me to light his cigarette.
Part of that makes me a little happy, too.

I feel a lot like her Balcony does, and I'm not sure why.