It’s not the romantic floaty feeling that’s causing the headache. It’s the insecurities. What if he realized it’s all a huge hormonal/testosteronal mistake? Why has he not actively tried to seek me out, to talk and all? What can’t I just chuck all these revolving thoughts INTO THE BIN along with all my bloody cooking? No, I can’t coz it’s a waste…Urgh. And every two minutes, I feel like punching something. But I can’t coz the room’s not soundproof. So I piece that bloody puzzle.
And I can’t study or whatever coz I’m too frustrated. And the Internet’s gone wonky in my room. And I keep telling myself that it’ll wear off like most chemically-based feelings but I personally think it’ll last the entire time I’m here.I’ve also attempted to read Good Omens (a second time) but I mostly doze off after three pages or so. That means, I’ve slept the entire day.
Except when I was watching Transformers…really cool movie…redefines the notion of life.
Take deep breaths. Count to three… ok now, sort out which books you’re gonna bring home. Most probably Hewstone, Levine and Gazzaniga. The rest will be printed off the Net…
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