it's only when we wake up that we realise that something was actually strange.
Day Fifteen - Your dreams, in great detail.
I've decided to take this literally. It's easier.
My dreams are always in colour, and they never see me flying. They're often about university and success therein, and thus endlessly frustrating - like those annoying dreams where you find something you've been looking for, and you're disappointed when you wake up and it's still lost. Only I wake up and I'm still an underachieving twat. My dreams are not very subtle when giving me advice, and said advice is rarely sage. I learnt to stop following it when it convinced me to ask a guy out, and this guy turned out to be engaged. And in my classes for another painfully awkward semester. Ha. My dreams are only ever violent when my parents are involved. I don't know what that's supposed to mean. My dreams are often of stilted conversations with people I'd blush to be stilted around. My dreams tease me with people I miss and can't see when I'm awake. In my dreams, I am always quite small and unimportant, and I like it that way. Big things unfold around me and I'm just caught up in it, never the hero or the villain, just a quiet observer with a lot to think about upon waking.
Over the past two days, I have woken up early, applied for law school, finished a personal statement essay (and mislabelled it, but oh well), written a lot of fic, studied for the LSAT, watched several glorious hours of television, gotten happy marks on the essays I've handed in, done research for mid-term papers, and painted my nails this ridiculous colour. What a thoroughly productive mid-semester break this is turning out to be.
Let's rather superficially discuss the new Liverpool squad photo! It's another awkward photoshop-looking affair. We have too many bald people. Jovanovic should join them, though; his hair really wants to escape. Meireles clearly looked better before the big shave. I enjoy looking at Fernando Torres' general aesthetic, though his slanty shoulders have always bothered me. I admit, I had forgotten about Fabio Aurelio's existence, but he's quite pretty too. Some of the players look really uncomfortable in those chairs (*cough* Daniel Agger). Lucas looks sad, but his eyes are so blue. I like Christian Poulsen's hair. I find Nathan Eccleston's little beard amusing, but he's otherwise quite delicious. It's nice to see so many young players. I hope to see more of them.
PS Whoever did this? Kudos.
I've decided to take this literally. It's easier.
My dreams are always in colour, and they never see me flying. They're often about university and success therein, and thus endlessly frustrating - like those annoying dreams where you find something you've been looking for, and you're disappointed when you wake up and it's still lost. Only I wake up and I'm still an underachieving twat. My dreams are not very subtle when giving me advice, and said advice is rarely sage. I learnt to stop following it when it convinced me to ask a guy out, and this guy turned out to be engaged. And in my classes for another painfully awkward semester. Ha. My dreams are only ever violent when my parents are involved. I don't know what that's supposed to mean. My dreams are often of stilted conversations with people I'd blush to be stilted around. My dreams tease me with people I miss and can't see when I'm awake. In my dreams, I am always quite small and unimportant, and I like it that way. Big things unfold around me and I'm just caught up in it, never the hero or the villain, just a quiet observer with a lot to think about upon waking.
Over the past two days, I have woken up early, applied for law school, finished a personal statement essay (and mislabelled it, but oh well), written a lot of fic, studied for the LSAT, watched several glorious hours of television, gotten happy marks on the essays I've handed in, done research for mid-term papers, and painted my nails this ridiculous colour. What a thoroughly productive mid-semester break this is turning out to be.
Let's rather superficially discuss the new Liverpool squad photo! It's another awkward photoshop-looking affair. We have too many bald people. Jovanovic should join them, though; his hair really wants to escape. Meireles clearly looked better before the big shave. I enjoy looking at Fernando Torres' general aesthetic, though his slanty shoulders have always bothered me. I admit, I had forgotten about Fabio Aurelio's existence, but he's quite pretty too. Some of the players look really uncomfortable in those chairs (*cough* Daniel Agger). Lucas looks sad, but his eyes are so blue. I like Christian Poulsen's hair. I find Nathan Eccleston's little beard amusing, but he's otherwise quite delicious. It's nice to see so many young players. I hope to see more of them.
PS Whoever did this? Kudos.
