sat in my favourite seat in the library,
shoved right against the wall feeling the lack of hard work throbbing in my shoulders,
sitting doing nothing actually causes me physical pain.
i need to do the following:
essay on social realism in 1980's british cinema - films studies
essay on magazines - media
exam questions - media
retake horror film storyboard photos - film studies
complete storyboard - film studies
revision - maths
LEARN LINES!!!! - drama
and a fuckload of english work.
i have realised a little too conciously over the past week that i should not have taken film studies at all.
or not failed maths
or just not gone to college.
i hate education and my feeling of necessity when it comes to stupid blocks of meaningless text handed in to exasperated teachers with floppy hair and floppy smiles and little tags that say "STAFF" so you feel the right amount of guilt if you push them over thinking they're a student.
i'm living my life through crumpled receipts from tesco and empty water bottles and second hand smoke and stupid sentances which should stick to the corners of my brain like filthy cobwebs but end up tumbling into the open air, for everybody to hear. i'm a dick. i am a massive metephorical dick.
let's write something happy, don't drag the internet down with you alex.
a man with really spiky hair just walked out of the library
and this is good for 2 reasons
1 - it looks really funny and as if you would feel the gel squidging between your fingers in a slightly satisfying manner were you to dip your hand into that slick garden of laborious locks. alliteration.
2 - i bet it took him ages and ages, and i am glad that when i wake up in the morning i can be ready in about 20 minutes.
more shiny occurences
things that make me pleased
earlier i found a very effective font for my storyboard. this makes me feel more organised.
rob made me a "bently mikes" cigarette case which i think i will keep mints or M&M's in because, well, i don't smoke.
my memory stick is named jeff.
jack is coming over to watch fight club next week
no, that didn't happen in the end.
merty's birthday this weekend, roman themed...
togas, ivy, laughing, dancing.
i've almost finished "Juliet, Naked"
it makes me smile on trains when strangers drinking coffee frown at my apparently unfounded grins...
jack battley and i had a fascinating exchange earlier on.
trudie and i had an edible chat at the end of drama,
one that i sunk my teeth into with vigour.
this seat really is my favourite.
for some reason somebody told me i looked pretty.
in the words of baz luhrmann - although they were in fact magazine collumnist mary schmich's words, but whatever - remember the compliments you recieve, forget the insults.
if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
=) positivity please.