Oh mon cher~!
Breakfast I made in much haste, half an hour before class starts. It was a simple fried rice, but damn, it did taste good. Weather was little short of glorious, all sun and blue sky and balloons flying in our faces when I had lunch with a friend alfresco-style!
At Subways.
I'm short on blood, so I had steak and cheese. Need me red meat, aye.
Day two now, lads and ladies, and it's about my first love.
My first love.
It's hard to talk about, ack. Ever since I was a kid I've not been fan of people. They're too loud, they're too annoying, and why the hell can't they know what I mean to say without me spelling it out for them?
The most important personal characteristic I needed in other people when I was a kid (and honestly I'd still quite like it now) was the ability to mind-read the bits of my mind that I don't mind being read.
There were a few times, over the years, when I would sit down and think, yes, it would be quite nice if I fancied this boy, if I started going out, if I fell in love.
Only I'm not inherently loveable. I'm brisk and a little bit hard, I don't get angry easily but I don't cool down fast. And I know this, only I'm quite fond of me, so being near-twenty and never having gone on a date doesn't... hurt? As much as it ought to. Possibly. I'm not sure.
Anyway. Since I'm not terribly against telling embarrassing stories about myself, I might as well.
The first time I remember feeling hopeless, burning love was when I was... ten-ish, I think, give or take a few years. There's this anime, yeah? And there's this boy in it. And he's sweet and soft and kind and clumsy and has red hair and is gorgeous and dashing and saves the world at least three times. Once from a severe case of feng shui.
And there was a picture of him in the television guide, and remember this is a cartoon man, and I carefully cut out the picture, stuck it onto a piece of cardboard, drew flowers and wrote what probably counts as a confession onto that piece of cardboard. I brought it with me everywhere, and because I was a huge banner-waver (except not, if you can catch my meaning) of suppressing emotions...
Whenever things went wrong I'd bottle it up and tell the little picture on that bit of cardboard. To some degree, I'd like to mention, I believed in fiction for quite a while. I was writing long, explanatory letters to Chrestomanci, with envelopes and and an address carefully copied from a paragraph from the book, fully confident he'd read them, eventually. I still have them. I reckon it's a mild form of delusion that I still live under, a little. I'd complain and whine and scream and then feel better because it's a picture and he's always smiling what I feel counts as understandingly.
And that lasted for months, because at the end of the day, whatever age I am, I would stop being Yu if I wasn't serious about the things I do.
This crazed affection, it strikes again once every year or so, with people who for some reason or other are thoroughly unattainable. Embarrassingly, I don't think I ever mean it any less each time. I think I love hard core-like.
Haven't met anyone in real life I feel that way about, not for longer than a few hours that were happily messed up with exhaustion, alcohol, and a beautiful city (golly that sounds a damn sight more dashing than it deserves). Don't ask about it. I won't say a thing.
And that, lads and ladies, is all there is for this, today. I'm blushing too hopelessly hard to say much more.
Now me and University, we two shall try and figure out how I can be in three places at the same time~
Today's practical was hard, but I feel slightly more competent than I did yesterday.
Tomorrow there'll be a tutorial, and the day after a test. I'll try and do better, o hell yeah.
At Subways.
I'm short on blood, so I had steak and cheese. Need me red meat, aye.
Day two now, lads and ladies, and it's about my first love.
My first love.
It's hard to talk about, ack. Ever since I was a kid I've not been fan of people. They're too loud, they're too annoying, and why the hell can't they know what I mean to say without me spelling it out for them?
The most important personal characteristic I needed in other people when I was a kid (and honestly I'd still quite like it now) was the ability to mind-read the bits of my mind that I don't mind being read.
There were a few times, over the years, when I would sit down and think, yes, it would be quite nice if I fancied this boy, if I started going out, if I fell in love.
Only I'm not inherently loveable. I'm brisk and a little bit hard, I don't get angry easily but I don't cool down fast. And I know this, only I'm quite fond of me, so being near-twenty and never having gone on a date doesn't... hurt? As much as it ought to. Possibly. I'm not sure.
Anyway. Since I'm not terribly against telling embarrassing stories about myself, I might as well.
The first time I remember feeling hopeless, burning love was when I was... ten-ish, I think, give or take a few years. There's this anime, yeah? And there's this boy in it. And he's sweet and soft and kind and clumsy and has red hair and is gorgeous and dashing and saves the world at least three times. Once from a severe case of feng shui.
And there was a picture of him in the television guide, and remember this is a cartoon man, and I carefully cut out the picture, stuck it onto a piece of cardboard, drew flowers and wrote what probably counts as a confession onto that piece of cardboard. I brought it with me everywhere, and because I was a huge banner-waver (except not, if you can catch my meaning) of suppressing emotions...
Whenever things went wrong I'd bottle it up and tell the little picture on that bit of cardboard. To some degree, I'd like to mention, I believed in fiction for quite a while. I was writing long, explanatory letters to Chrestomanci, with envelopes and and an address carefully copied from a paragraph from the book, fully confident he'd read them, eventually. I still have them. I reckon it's a mild form of delusion that I still live under, a little. I'd complain and whine and scream and then feel better because it's a picture and he's always smiling what I feel counts as understandingly.
And that lasted for months, because at the end of the day, whatever age I am, I would stop being Yu if I wasn't serious about the things I do.
This crazed affection, it strikes again once every year or so, with people who for some reason or other are thoroughly unattainable. Embarrassingly, I don't think I ever mean it any less each time. I think I love hard core-like.
Haven't met anyone in real life I feel that way about, not for longer than a few hours that were happily messed up with exhaustion, alcohol, and a beautiful city (golly that sounds a damn sight more dashing than it deserves). Don't ask about it. I won't say a thing.
And that, lads and ladies, is all there is for this, today. I'm blushing too hopelessly hard to say much more.
Now me and University, we two shall try and figure out how I can be in three places at the same time~
Today's practical was hard, but I feel slightly more competent than I did yesterday.
Tomorrow there'll be a tutorial, and the day after a test. I'll try and do better, o hell yeah.