...sunny days that I thought would never end...
My wireless internet's being siphoned by the neighbors. Handing us a 20 each month makes it copacetic, I suppose. Although that money goes into my sister's pocket. Oh well, maybe I'll line the wall between us with aluminum foil to block the signal just to be a jerk.
School is back and it reminds me how much of a late bloomer I was, am and will be. Developing healthy adult habits like working, punctuality, discipline, and socializing came about two years too late. Total hardass exiting high school. Only took me until I went to training I realized how socially-handicapped people can be. I was just piggy-backing on my friends from middle school into high school. Still unable to make a graceful exit. Unable to bring the nose up on a diving plane of conversation and unable to spot boundaries.
But onto the why the end is worth talking about. I've had less and less to enjoy as summer dwindles away and fall's cold seeps into my bones. Must be academia's away of wrecking a good party. Running out some interesting people and with it wonderful alcohol. Promised myself I'd only drink after 6.
I mean on the weekends.
Summer hasn't exactly been great to me either. My sleep pattern would've been completely nocturnal had it not been for the shorter nights. Like the body's clock says, "here. let me: you want this more than i do" deprives me of a decent night's sleep, normality, and just a little bit of dignity. The question ("What did you do today?") at 4:35pm is non-applicable nor can you tell the truth and say "I just woke up." No-no. Every other week or so I attempted to remedy this with over-the-counter sleeping pills. Skip a night of drinking and go into a pill-induced nightmare sleep. Why the nightmares and why blame it on the pills? I don't know but I do remember these dreams most vividly. I'd trade these dreams for exam-i-didn't-study-for or forgot-clothes-on-speech-day dreams in a heartbeat. Please. Even a humiliated-by-crush would a good trade.
Currently, I'm righting this turbulent sleep pattern and lacking the will to go on. Thinking about nothing but sleep. Whereas at 1am, it got morose and completely self-loathing. all I could think about if those friends from 6-8 years ago and two thousand miles away I added on facebook even give a damn about me after 5 minutes when I attempt to touch base. What song I would want to be played at my funeral. Is it flirting or is it friendly? How many people consider this product of relentless waves of drama and anger is flat-out obnoxious? Thinking about how true it is that you should never have to explain: enemies won't hear it and friends don't need it. The final thought I remember is the joke I'll be trying to work into a regular conversation for the next year "I love to hear gripping stories. I like to be gripped, too. Daily. Sometimes twice a day."
And with a single beat of its wings, I blame the interweb for starting this hurricane of thought every night. When did I ever give thought to who still remembers me from high school besides the people I liked enough to remember in the past 7 years? Yes the funeral thing is a bit morbid, but I use it as a motivator and think about who would attend. My mortality has been something I've been avoiding. Teenaged Nam always believed he was invulnerable. Eternal. And that meant there's tomorrow waiting. I redefined my stance on this, but it was never the correct response.
Still working on what direction and what action is the best fit. But I decided on "Fire and Rain" about 10 hours ago.
School is back and it reminds me how much of a late bloomer I was, am and will be. Developing healthy adult habits like working, punctuality, discipline, and socializing came about two years too late. Total hardass exiting high school. Only took me until I went to training I realized how socially-handicapped people can be. I was just piggy-backing on my friends from middle school into high school. Still unable to make a graceful exit. Unable to bring the nose up on a diving plane of conversation and unable to spot boundaries.
But onto the why the end is worth talking about. I've had less and less to enjoy as summer dwindles away and fall's cold seeps into my bones. Must be academia's away of wrecking a good party. Running out some interesting people and with it wonderful alcohol. Promised myself I'd only drink after 6.
I mean on the weekends.
Summer hasn't exactly been great to me either. My sleep pattern would've been completely nocturnal had it not been for the shorter nights. Like the body's clock says, "here. let me: you want this more than i do" deprives me of a decent night's sleep, normality, and just a little bit of dignity. The question ("What did you do today?") at 4:35pm is non-applicable nor can you tell the truth and say "I just woke up." No-no. Every other week or so I attempted to remedy this with over-the-counter sleeping pills. Skip a night of drinking and go into a pill-induced nightmare sleep. Why the nightmares and why blame it on the pills? I don't know but I do remember these dreams most vividly. I'd trade these dreams for exam-i-didn't-study-for or forgot-clothes-on-speech-day dreams in a heartbeat. Please. Even a humiliated-by-crush would a good trade.
Currently, I'm righting this turbulent sleep pattern and lacking the will to go on. Thinking about nothing but sleep. Whereas at 1am, it got morose and completely self-loathing. all I could think about if those friends from 6-8 years ago and two thousand miles away I added on facebook even give a damn about me after 5 minutes when I attempt to touch base. What song I would want to be played at my funeral. Is it flirting or is it friendly? How many people consider this product of relentless waves of drama and anger is flat-out obnoxious? Thinking about how true it is that you should never have to explain: enemies won't hear it and friends don't need it. The final thought I remember is the joke I'll be trying to work into a regular conversation for the next year "I love to hear gripping stories. I like to be gripped, too. Daily. Sometimes twice a day."
And with a single beat of its wings, I blame the interweb for starting this hurricane of thought every night. When did I ever give thought to who still remembers me from high school besides the people I liked enough to remember in the past 7 years? Yes the funeral thing is a bit morbid, but I use it as a motivator and think about who would attend. My mortality has been something I've been avoiding. Teenaged Nam always believed he was invulnerable. Eternal. And that meant there's tomorrow waiting. I redefined my stance on this, but it was never the correct response.
Still working on what direction and what action is the best fit. But I decided on "Fire and Rain" about 10 hours ago.