C is for Sleepy

one day, i will type out every single letter of Anscombe's pamphlet, Mr Truman's degree, regardless of legality, since people complain they can't find the text online. In it contains every last drop of sarcasm and wit that I have lost over the past few years used to bitch about various aspects of how the world is unfair. it makes pleasant studying, at least, to see that people can still be so bitingly funny.

as i sit and think, all i run up against is frustration.

my computer is down.
I can't sleep, but there is nothing to do when i can't sleep because i don't have my own computer, so i rely on little raids on Michelle's computer.
She is sleeping now.
My allowances aren't in yet.
My internship posting is left hanging.
I have to study for exams.

so there are 6 negative things hanging over me now, in the immediate present. is there a tense for that. ten-sion.

spring is here. i wonder whether chairman's read blogs. because my friend in the edb has his chairman looking around from time to time. right, public domain and all. i've had it with blogs anyway, there's probably a new wave around. like twitterrific or something.

i cannot how imagine how someone would want to read blogs anyway. look at all the sordid photo whoring, the whining like this, the shrines to once own existence. look at the other hundred thousand youths with enough computers and free time to write. people like you and i. well, alright, some people write well. or about interesting things. that other people exist. that other people younger than you exist. other people like you with pretty legs and being in the sun in singapore, not like the weather isnt good here but there are no beaches.

i would, if i didn't somehow feel guilty about wasting time. i should just eat sleeping pills, of which there is a pack lying around somewhere. but it's such a waste, of this energy, i should be studying except that i've been half doing that all day. and i do not like pills. they frighten me. i wonder what happens if you chew them instead of swallow. part of me worries i have fatal familial insomnia, and how scary that would be, but i relax as i learn i am not 40 and it is only tonight. such irony, all that time wanting to sleep less and here it is i am in someone else's room not wanting to turn on the light or do anything and just wait for tomorrow to come. i have spent a lot of time waiting without a computer, i guess i could survive without it but i just spend so much time thinking blank thoughts.

i am thinking about boats racing on the thames. cambridge won. why? because i checked online.
sleep. i am envious of sleeping people. i should be studying, but i don't want to turn on the light to disturb equilibrium, no, i don't want to study. i have been half doing it all day, the other half a smorgasbord of prison break, cooking and wanting to exercise.

no inspiration to write. wikipedia and blogspot disabled. where will i get my ready supply of knowledge?

on the day you are a joyless, luckless individual. do you want to know how to write well, how to make people feel despondent? i learnt that trick when i was young. have many words, some which may not mean much at all, and put a less behind them. come, try it, repeat after me.

joyless, penniless, homeless, luckless, computerless, sleeplessness (i cheated, there was a ness in there, but it rhymes), motherless, fatherless, faithless, solace.

her profession is her religion, her sin is her lifelessness

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