It's 1am, falling asleep, garren! (abbreviated form of guaranteed) Not even Homage to Catalonia can keep me awake.

The day before, it was around 3, general agitation over purpose of journalism mingled with much less profound introspection of previous life-decisions.

The day before that, if I can recall correctly, maybe 3, 4, or possibly in between. Real frustration with inability to sleep amongst some nice relaxing. Singing songs in my head.

Now, 22:42, less than average expectations of imminent sleep coupled with mild acceptance of the fact.


My girlfriend.

It's all gravy, baby.

Given the lack of replies to this thread, I think I'll hypothesize some with invented characters.

Lame-o! remember when we'd crawl the walls all night for the pure elation? Give up on the essay and watch fear and loathing with me again... woooOOOOooooOOooOOOooooo...

John: No! I'm not a ghost any more!

*Crazy Fiend 1 activates tractor beam with the inevitable consequence of sucking John into the Spirit Realm

CF1: Ah-Ha! Try to escape the irrevocable pull of the Mach6 super-suck, muesli-lover!

John: Ow ow ow, that's ever so slightly painful. By the way, how long does it normally take for this to finish? It's just that I've got an essay due on Friday, and...

CF1: Less than a century (he couldn't afford the GilletteInfiniteBoredom), mwahaHAHAHAAHAHAAAAAAA........

(As Cf1's laugh carries on endlessly) John: Oh right, I'd better get on with it, then.

What the fuck?

*looks down at replies*



Essays need to be banned it seems. It makes everyone slightly more strange. What must those new kids have thought today...

I hear voices.

Tomorrow, when speaking to John (if at all), I recommend we choose our words very carefully. Who knows, what might snap again...

Woah woah woah woah WOAH! Let's get something straight, here.

Who's this John you're talking 'bout?


So... endless, pointless thoughts