So how is my stay at Ithaca college?

Well, for one thing, I haven't done a page of homework, I'm going on my second week here.
For another thing, its four in the morning and I'm hacking up my right lung, and while I was tired about...say...eight hours ago, now I am fucking bouncing off the walls. So I went to go buy the cinnamon poptarts from the vending machine, and now I feel sick, so that every time I cough, I feel like I'm about to throw up too.
Eariler tonight, I was repeatedly hit on by a straight guy. He's my new friend, John. It's funny, because the gay guy, and there totally was a gay guy chilling with us, he didn't even hit on my once. I guess I just have that affect on certain people. And me, I'm fucking choking on my own delicious mucus right now. But I don't care how delicious my mucus is, its EVIL. And that, and the fact that I am bouncing up and down the walls is keeping me up all night, and not in the hot steamy sexy way I should be kept up all night. Except I took a hot steamy shower to, you know, help me breathe, only, I think the moisture made it worse, so now I'm choking, coughing, and hot, and not hot in the sexy steamy sort of way. See a pattern here?
They say that: Ithaca to bed, Cornell to wedd. They say that if anyone graduates still a virgin the giant rolly sculpture above Textor hall will roll down the hills of Ithaca. They say all that, and yet, so far, I've only been hit on by my straight friend John.
So far, at Ithaca College, all my teachers are gay. Trust me, I know these things.
And I'm fucking sick sick sick and feeling sick to my stomach, and maybe I should just take some nyquil except it TOTALLY didn't work the last two nights I took it, except now I am desparate. Sooooo desparate. I'm hacking my life out here, and the Nyqiul is just sitting there, unsuspecting, on the shelf, waiting for me to nab it in its precious slumber and suck it's life juices out of its child-proof neck.
On the plus side, I have become the living dead.
Licking the crimson syrup off my lips, I lay my victim back on the shelf, waiting for the intoxicating after-affects of sleep and partial use of my lungs.
Its funny because, my straight friend John, who likes to kiss guys sometimes, he totally doesn't know that I would be totally into that too.
And me, I'm having so much fun pretending to be perfectly straight. When I left for college I realized I could reinvent myself any way I want. And this, this isn't exactly working for me, but it is fun. More fun than everyone thinking I was gay.
I have no expectations, no pressure, no stereotyped conformities.
I can wear a t-shirt and not shave and my hair a mess, yet people somehow think I'm being stylish.
In the end, I'm the one who gets the last laugh.
In the end, the joke is on you.
In the end, this nyquil has made me feel quite ill.