it's midnight on friday night. i have a final exam in 10 hours in statistics which i hope to do well in. hopefully i'll get an A in that class, which takes some pressure off the GPA. wish i didn't have an exam tomorrow though, then i can do something more fun tonight. but i'm glad to get it over with as well, so that i can have a more relaxed weekend to do my humanities paper.
and i realise i seem to not have anything else to write. i remember thinking about identity again but not really feeling like i've come to any better conclusion, except maybe that perhaps we were never meant to know ourselves, because the self is such an odd concept in the first place. maybe the self is something we invented for some reason, but isn't really something that exists by nature. who knows? maybe the only reason why we're so confused is because there is no real answer.
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