Click Click

I'm sick of thinking up titles for posts.. and it's only been a month since I started blogging.

That said, I'm glad I jumped onto the blogwagon. Have been reconnected to a bunch of people I've always regretted disconnecting from. Ha. Ha.

Andrew, it's great to see you again after so long. All homosexual puns aside, talking to you always makes me feel good. Maybe it's because the way you bring me way back to my early years in PFS. Maybe it's something else. It's all good, whatever it is.

Have been, and will be, shut inside my room for the next three weeks or so. Finals are looming. Tension, balls. The fear has hit, and rightfully so.

I'm afraid, balls.

The days are always the same; I wake up, make coffee, start cooking/nuke what I cooked the day before, hit the books, come online to post/check my mail, have a fag or two or ten, and I go to bed. The sheer repetitiveness of my days scare the living shite outta me.

Even when I sleep, I dream fucked up dreams. Hospitals, diseases, car crashes, scary ex-girlfriends, the like. They gang up to fuck the one bit of relief I can afford.

I don't think I handle nonevent well. Which worries me, what will happen when I graduate, when I start working? The profession has never been associated with excitement.

Cibai.

Everything hurts.

Hope the next post will be a happier one.

This entry was posted by tsh, on Wednesday, April 27, 2005. You can bitch back.