A bit nippy, innit?
Weather's getting cooler and the sun is shy and getting stingy with blue skies. What IS happiness anyway? All those books on utopia prove that it's a fictional state both as a place with an electoral roll and as of mind. Either way, it's not somewhere you could set up camp permanently.
How am I really? "I'm fine, it's fine, everyone's fine." Actually, feel a little displaced these days - moving from hovel to temporary hovel isn't very fun. The temporary nature of the hovels doesn't help with the state of mind. Most nights now I've been having vivid nightmares. Last night's little episode: I'm me at my current age, carrying around my bro as his 2yo self. We were escaping some concentration camp and then going to a magic school where they kept passing us unshielded weapons and mum reminding us to use sunscreen. Woke up at 4am in a sweaty panic. Other than that, sleeping in is glorious! Highly highly rate that! If only it was minus the crazy dreams.
Somehow managed to miss the David Eddings craze as a teenager. (Probably a lot to do with how this girl I didn't like was mad about them -> icky association between all things David Eddings and her.) Ploughed through Belgariad 1,2,3 and 4 over the weekend and now halfway through 5. I *love* wattpad.
You know when you go shopping and you buy all this junk food. When you finally snap out of it, survey the kitchen with dismay "this food is bad for me, but I bought it, and if I don't eat it, it's such a waste of money". In conclusion, turf it. Forget the principle of the matter, if you force yourself to eat it, you end up regretting it. Just turf it already. $4 on chips, or $4 on the bus to the gym to try sweat some of it off? I have this conversation with myself fairly regularly. Got the common sense of a grasshopper when I go shopping on an empty stomach.
Niffs and I went to SW4 in Clapham Common. We had a great spot - right up the front, leaning on the fence and could make eye contact with Armin van Buuren (if he only looked our way). The crowd was pushy in a rude way, and even with the best seats in the house, it became a battle instead of fun. Seriously, the horrid spanish girl next to us was pushing rudely - Niffs tried dancing with elbows out, I tried plain leaning on her. While I was trying to trap the skin of her arms and pinch it between my elbow and the railing, I also started fantasizing about tying her hair to the fencing... The dude behind us kept raising his arms in joy and spilling beer on our heads. It was all very joyous. I kept checking the time.
Yes yes, Armin's very cute and we love his music, but after a half full beer can came crashing down on Niff's poor head, and someone spilt beer down my leg, as well as that horrid spanish bitchola, we just weren't feeling the love. Why force yourself to stay when it's not enjoyable anymore? A hot cuppa tea (rug over knees optional) was more appealing than battling it out there for another hour and pretending to be cool.
I really am getting too old for this shit.
How am I really? "I'm fine, it's fine, everyone's fine." Actually, feel a little displaced these days - moving from hovel to temporary hovel isn't very fun. The temporary nature of the hovels doesn't help with the state of mind. Most nights now I've been having vivid nightmares. Last night's little episode: I'm me at my current age, carrying around my bro as his 2yo self. We were escaping some concentration camp and then going to a magic school where they kept passing us unshielded weapons and mum reminding us to use sunscreen. Woke up at 4am in a sweaty panic. Other than that, sleeping in is glorious! Highly highly rate that! If only it was minus the crazy dreams.
Somehow managed to miss the David Eddings craze as a teenager. (Probably a lot to do with how this girl I didn't like was mad about them -> icky association between all things David Eddings and her.) Ploughed through Belgariad 1,2,3 and 4 over the weekend and now halfway through 5. I *love* wattpad.
You know when you go shopping and you buy all this junk food. When you finally snap out of it, survey the kitchen with dismay "this food is bad for me, but I bought it, and if I don't eat it, it's such a waste of money". In conclusion, turf it. Forget the principle of the matter, if you force yourself to eat it, you end up regretting it. Just turf it already. $4 on chips, or $4 on the bus to the gym to try sweat some of it off? I have this conversation with myself fairly regularly. Got the common sense of a grasshopper when I go shopping on an empty stomach.
Niffs and I went to SW4 in Clapham Common. We had a great spot - right up the front, leaning on the fence and could make eye contact with Armin van Buuren (if he only looked our way). The crowd was pushy in a rude way, and even with the best seats in the house, it became a battle instead of fun. Seriously, the horrid spanish girl next to us was pushing rudely - Niffs tried dancing with elbows out, I tried plain leaning on her. While I was trying to trap the skin of her arms and pinch it between my elbow and the railing, I also started fantasizing about tying her hair to the fencing... The dude behind us kept raising his arms in joy and spilling beer on our heads. It was all very joyous. I kept checking the time.
Yes yes, Armin's very cute and we love his music, but after a half full beer can came crashing down on Niff's poor head, and someone spilt beer down my leg, as well as that horrid spanish bitchola, we just weren't feeling the love. Why force yourself to stay when it's not enjoyable anymore? A hot cuppa tea (rug over knees optional) was more appealing than battling it out there for another hour and pretending to be cool.
I really am getting too old for this shit.