i feel somehow as if i were being wicked and tricking you into supposing that i am always happy, but that is not true.
oh god, that cannot be any further from the truth.
i have written loads about my academic pursuits and i, and i've found myself wondering unceasingly if that's all there is to me.
on one hand, it gives me life.
on the other, it's all so meaningless, isn't it?
i mean, Death's gonna come hurtling at me either way
ah! i've found the trouble with blogging.
on this platform it is imperative to have a point, a topic, a purpose, and then expound it at some length.
alas, i have a sickeningly short attention span, and thoughts come to me in short spurts and sprays, and i cannot bear to muse over a single one for very long.
it is very tiring, i think, to have to always meticulously twist and shape your words just so to reach any desired effect.
it is for this reason twitter attends to me excellently - i never have to care past 140 characters!
did you know? i've lost my writing
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