A nighttime blog. Not quite ready to sleep, thinking to parp my thoughts out that they don't bother me in bed. Well, another week more or less gone. Nothing to show; they could make a romcom of my life. Or at least, the first half of a romcom, tho it would probably test badly, most people knowing that students are awful arseholes, and those who don't probably were awful areshole students and waxed into awful arsehole adults. Y'know, moody shots of me walking thru the dark and noisy populated city, puzzling over some difficult text in an empty library, then coming, as some I would say by Coldplay wank crescendoed, to my dark and empty room.
(little storylet: abalienated from life i went alone to cinema having poorly slept during the day to see funny people ( punctuate as desired (but never double parenthesize)). Now this is a fairly gash film, w/ Sandler dying of cancer until he doesn't. But motherfuck me if I wasn't damn near welling up when the I would say by Coldplay wank started blaring and he was looking at photos or whatever it is dying people do in films. So yeah, the moral of this story is that emotions are stupid)
I'm talking about movies alot these days. Maybe i shd make this a therapy\movie review blog. I do look uncannily like Jon Lovitz's critic.