Meh, I’m getting bad sleep cycle. It’s shit. I hate the internet. But I suppose it’s normal. Shit I need seven hours of interrupted sleep to fully get immersed in this secret little project I’m taking (we always have little secret projects we don’t tell people about). I suppose it’s not working. I don’t even turn off the computer anymore now that I have broadband that can well, download movies and anything else I want without limit. And because of this, everything else is distruptive. The only time I can even get time to read a book is either when I want to go to sleep or when I’m waiting for something you can’t control to end (classes, trains, pick me ups). It’s shitty, the way things turned out. I haven’t finished Sartre’s Nausea yet. But I couldn’t give a damn. Whatever.
beautifully illustrated
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Anyway, reading Teddy from Mr. Salinger’s Nine Stories for the well, third time, since a space of two years, really bring a bit of clarity of how these things called meditations and stuff works out. Heck, I even regard Salinger as my secret little undeclared friend, like there’s this sort of mutual understanding between us. But, even I know I’m exaggerating this all. Teddy is like, the classic example of how you’re supposed to be in the first place. Not supposed to be, that’s quite a wrong way to put it, but well, almost a good thing. But well, his part on the whole affinity thing takes a new different meaning.
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Some dude keeps on asking about what does people think about him and stuff. I suppose you shouldn’t worry about things too much. Even if you want to, you’ve got to make it a personal mission, something like eavesdropping, like an accidental sort of conversational stuff. Not by asking around, to reassure you self-worth. I mean, well, I even asked about this to someone, and what she said was a bit tad… irritating. Well, not surprising, since it’s already obvious to begin with, just this sorta ‘oh rly?’ sort of stuff. I resented the ‘competitive’ adjective though. I ain’t that much of a competitor, am I?
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On another lighter note, someone said I made frequent use of hand gestures, and always looked up. I said I was thinking. I really was. Really. Kinda validated the point about Keirsey’s NT description. I’m still, and will be obsessed about this thing for the rest of my life.
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Shit, I’m supposed to write about this in my new journal (yang lama sudah habis di isi in a space of 8 months). Aku baru beli buku journal paling cantik di dunia yang dijual oleh seorang perempuan cun di sebuah tempat. covernya dan isinya ada gambar-gambar the sartorialist yang di modify dengan doodle-doodle perempuan cun itu (katanya pada aku). tapi aku sayang gila nak tulis apa-apa lagi. it’s virginal. tunggu april. holy april.
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dah dah dah cukup. aku pasti kamu tak memahami separuh daripada benda-benda yang aku katakan. i’m one helluva secretive bastard who doesn’t even have half the guts to try to explain everything in detail. it’s tiresome. i don’t need an audience.
perkaraperkara 