I think there's just something about being (kind of) alone in the house and laying in bed the whole day watching the passing clouds and the green scaffolding of the next-door construction site that flutters and flutters when there's a breeze.
Sigh.
I haven't been thinking much lately.
As in, thinking productive thoughts, the ones I would and could when I was still properly immersed in the academic life.
I've also caught myself walking briskly more.
That, and thinking empty thoughts while at it.
You're right, that's not good news!
That means less of slow strolls wherever I go and much fewer contemplation of things that require contemplating.
That means less of slow strolls wherever I go and much fewer contemplation of things that require contemplating.
On the other hand, the brighter one, I am living such a good life.
I just recently borrowed some brilliant library books - a philosophy one included, so I guess I'm not off of it just yet huh - and I am spending so much day time on my stomach on my bed yay for me.
(Can't blame me, The Help is amazing.)
((Yay for free books too!! Yay because you can't get heartaches in a library looking at books you can't have/read!!))
And the night sees me reading 1D fanfictions on the computer with the night light dimly switched on, and this goes on till way after the lamps outside blink off at 12.15am.
(Ooh I have a funny story of how I know this.
I used to never know when they switch off and it drove me crazy because suddenly I find that outside has turned into complete darkness and I never knew when that happened.
This went on for months even though all through those months I wanted to know how that happened, when it did and how it looks like when it happened.
All I knew was that they switched off around 12am.
I promise you those lights were playing around with me - they always find ways to make me forget to look somehow, even when I made myself sit on my bed facing the windows to wait for them to switch off.
But one lucky night I made myself look long and hard enough and suddenly the world on the other side plunges itself into darkness and oh, that's how it happens.
It was 12.15am and so now I know.
Okay, that really wasn't funny.)
Sigh.
One Direction.
I don't even...
I didn't know I was susceptible to this shit.
I thought I was immune, okay.
I thought being a romantic would keep me in check, remind me that this life with these lovely rose-tinted glasses is exorbitantly better than one of a raging, hormonal teen in love with some boy band, deluded in her own way in thinking that one of them would actually marry her.
I mean, now that I am kind of more acquainted with this, I know that will just never happen (guys who are we kidding here girl you need a reality check).
No, in fact, worse happens.
And all I can do is appease myself with a how-about-they-are-in-love-with-each-other-let-us-all-just-ship-zianourry-and-leave-it-at-that-bloody-point.
1D is not gay, they are just in love with each other.
They are in love with each other.
They are in love with each other.
They are in love with each other and it hurts.
Or maybe I should embrace this.
I...........don't.......know..........because if I do this whole blog will kinda die idk.
And Shot For Me is NOT a Ziall anthem sorry but no one mixes Drake and 1D, that I absolutely refuse, Anis don't drive me madder.
Is this not funny, though?
I am mad that I am starting to like One Direction.
I am mad that I am starting to like One Direction.
Yeah, it is definitely a very funny notion.
"You need to save me from One Direction."
*gets off phone and resumes listening to Take Me Home*
*gets off phone and resumes listening to Take Me Home*
Round of damn applause, I deserve all the shit awards out there.
never thought it hurt so bad, getting over you
giving me a heart attack, getting over you
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