The reason why I don't write much in each blog post is because I'm a boring person really.
There isn't exactly anything new when it comes to learning about my life.
Here are some insipid facts that make me "me":
- I am currently studying English Literature, History, Art, German and Russian, and often leave the latter's lesson in a state of disarray and incertitude.
- I find it very difficult to talk about myself.
- I am deemed to be "baggage"
- I currently have someone else's passport next to me.
- I cut off the circulation to my toes earlier this evening in the name of "art", and couldn't walk for about 15 minutes.
- I would give anything to have an eight day week (no Beatles reference intended) so that I can attempt to heal friendships.
On a slightly different note, I had an argument with one of my friends earlier. She's immature, stubborn, spoilt, sheltered, and vacuous. She refuses to believe that others may not want to do what she wants all the time, and she stamps her slipper-socked foot in fury, and her hair emanates in red waves from her head as she storms off, swinging herself from side to side, in an attempt to make as dramatic an effect as possible, forgetting that after a silence of two days she'll inevitably forget and start venting her problems through me again.
And I'll let her, even though I know that she's all of these things.
Because she's my friend.
I think I'm scared of letting go of the past.