(no subject)
I lay here somewhere in the sands of time in my bedroom bored as hell and just a little sleepy; although that is to be expected since I have been awake since this time yesterday and I am currently running on two cups of very strong coffee - some of which I managed to spill on my keyboard, which is currently bearing with me even in it's over-used state (I've been doing a fair bit of writing lately, some of which I may post here for the sake of a friend who I know is dying to read it). Aah the joys of having a laptop; it's advantage over the competition of a desktop PC? Simple really. It's quieter - much quieter - meaning that I can type away to my hearts content into the early hours of the morning without waking anybody else in the house.
Hmm...I lost track of my point. Oh well.
For the past, shall we say, eleven hours I have spent my time laying in bed reading, writing and listening to 3 Doors Down - on repeat. Much like everyone else I have been dragged into reading Stephanie Meyer's Twilight series, though as bizarre as it may seem I was actually dragged into it by myself (it's best not to try and figure out how my mind works; the best have tried. They failed - miserably). I read the first book a few weeks ago in one sitting which lasted approximately four hours before I started the second - New Moon. The second I found more difficult to get into; although you can't blame me since Bella (the main character) for a little more than the first half of the book is moping because the 'love-of-her-life' left her (she even goes as far as to imagine his voice in her head - bizarre? I think so). Now contrary to popular belief(sp?) I am not completely heartless and I can actually relate to how she's feeling, but to mope for over half of the book is just a tad excessive.
Of course I did rather enjoy getting to know our dear doggy friend Jacob a bit better. The whole book, however, I thought was a bit predictable - maybe with the exception of the twist that triggers the reappearance of the Cullens, or more specifically Edward. This may just be damned English Literature ruining reading for me, though, with all its foreshadowing and authors' techniques. Whilst I find them incredibly interesting, and perhaps even useful, in terms of my own writing I must say that I despise it when it comes to reading other books. It's seems the subject is no longer content with taking any enjoyment out of reading the texts we study but also the books I choose to read of my own free will and enjoyment. I can only hope that I will gradually forget everything I have learned in the subject after our exams in June. Unfortunately June is still a long time away, who knows how many books it could ruin for me.
It seems I have, or at least supposedly have, a life outside of my books, my computer and my room. One that requires me to leave my bedroom and - according to my younger siblings - my house.
Ah, the secrets my kryptonite will never know - ever, if I have anything to say in the matter.
Will you still call me Superman?
xoxo
kit