(Note: *- indicates names of shy people/people who don't want their names here)
It's an incredibly difficult morning when you haven't had coffee. You're woozy and barely awake. You can hear but you can't listen. My God, this is absurd. This is like a waking dream state. I may as well be lucid dreaming.
Dr. R may watch The Maze Runner. I wonder if he'll remember to tell me how good/bad it is. Do I want to watch it? I don't know. I have other movies to watch. Though I'm toying with the idea of doing Vishal Bharadwaj's trilogy of Shakesperean adaptations with *. But where is the time?
Jo says the earlier films were even better in terms of cinematography. Good cinematography is what I'm a sucker for. Everything else can be sorted with subtitles.
I think I'm beginning to remember last night's dream, though it slipped away by the time I finished writing the former clause of this sentence.
Dr. R's having "breakfast". My God, I wish I'd had coffee!
I need to get a hold of myself. And my project. And my writing.
It's crazy how many page hits I'm getting on The Lost Virgin. Imagine if it was a full-fledged blog on its own. I suppose people are sharing secretly. Or it's just constantly on the feed for more people to see. StumbleUpon is doing some to contribute. Should I migrate blog to Tumblr? Or share further on Reddit? But the problem with that is how I'll have to block people all over again.
Jeez. Even mom wouldn't accept what I write. This is the situation I would dub as "Shite".
So, Comic Con this weekend? Should I ask *? Should I go on my own? So many problems in life. Maybe if K* pays me by then, I can buy something for Ammu. I'd like to do that. Poor kid deserves a break.
I honestly wish I was more technologically enterprising. I should be, instead of obsessing about every other irrelevant detail in the universe. I can't keep thinking about cultivating myself into being a better person without doing a shred of work towards it. It's okay that I write. Time spent in writing cannot be wasted. But look at the way I'm penning things down. It's anti- Sylvia Plath. Have you heard the sound of it? I don't think anything as bland as this exists, even!
So it goes and rains yesterday and now the fan and air-conditioning is on in this blessed class and I'm so cold that I have goosebumps on my arms every now and then. And they look angry. I'm mixing up my waking time with times I've been sleeping off. I need sleep. I neeeeed sleeeep before I end up believing that I lit candles in a Goan church after a dip in the ocean, before making it to class this morning.
Obscure Coldplay lyrics are stuck in my head. Perhaps it would do me good to sing out loud, anyway. * says I should train or I'll regret it. I mean, I'd like to, but not because yet another guy has a vision for me. Earlier, I thought that I had told Jo about Jan 20th when I was drunk. Looks like I didn't. It is just as well, I don't want to talk about it any more. You know, even saying that I don't want to talk about it irritates me right now.
Maybe I should just go ahead and see how to train my voice. And this seems like a start:
Penzu doesn't hyperlink that^. Ohkay! That's a refreshing aberration!
Why, why am I not paying attention to Dr. R. In fact, tell me why I haven't paid attention to him in at least a month, now? This is a really bad scenario. I should feel guilty. However, I should feel less guilty today because of my lack of coffee and the fact that NP*'s face is popping in my head. She may have gotten knocked up. Bless her.
Ghosh switched off the fan. But I'm still cold. Now I can feel it in my pants- the gooseflesh, I mean.
FOR GOD's SAKE! I need to keep my eyes open at least.
I'm so bloody happy that I didn't tie my hair up in the morning, I'm going to go back after Reading Disorders, eat nothing, and go the fuck to sleep. And I'm going to have to study for the NLP mid-term tomorrow.
Dr. R just said "Ready for Coffee". I love him. <3
(Note: He let us go 15 minutes early.)