I got a new thing. (this got more dramatic than intended)

Remember that time I wrote a poem about my laptop and its whirring sounds of death? Or that one where it just died and I briefly reevaluated my life and how we as a human race will begin to regress due to the internet? Yeah, me neither. It's okay.

I finally did it today. I replaced me laptop. Sure, I'll admit, there was a tingling sense of guilt when I took the new one out of the box and placed it next to the old one (also the fact that I distinguished between them by "new" and "old"-- Sorry old one). Like that video I saw on youtube where this couple got a new kitten and their current cat looked at them with glazed eyes of betrayal and hurt. My laptop looked at me with equal amounts of betrayal and hurt. I just got this thing, a newer and thinner and shinier thing that will do things that my old laptop won't do (it has infinitely better specs... look at that battery life uheruhreuheruir)

I think the main issue here is not that I'm betraying my old laptop but the fact that I'm ridiculously sentimental about everything. Seriously. When I finished a notebook I made an emotional video montage about it. In slow motion. With a song in the background. True story.

 Anyways I'll miss the old laptop and we had some great times together. But now I'm mostly thinking about how much of a bitch it's going to be to transfer all my files across.

Thinking thoughts in my brain (I can't sleep).

Hello again,

Is it weird to start addressing my blog as a living entity? Not that I do it in real life, it's weird enough already through text. What if the blog starts talking back and forming it's own thoughts, gaining intelligence through the internet and everything I've inputted here and then just crawls out of the screen and start rapidly ranting to me about how I've been spewing nonsense for years and now it's my turn to listen to my own blog. I don't know, it may not be a bad thing. What if they have something interesting to say. But am I talking to my blog now? WHAT IS REALITY. 

In other news I'm on chapter 40 of Bukowski's 'Factotum' and I just cannot bring myself to finish it. Not in a good I-don't-want-this-book-to-end-it's-perfect-[Mockingjay whistle]-way. It's just so disappointing because the first book I ever read by him ('Ham on Rye') was so good and perfect and this, quite frankly, just seems like a shitty brag/fantasy of a pervert who is surrounded by really superficially described as disgusting women that all want to sleep with him.

(I'm sorry if you like that book… I mean, if you do, please feel free to tell me why.)

(Maybe I'll finish it and have a different opinion)

(open mindedness right?)

(riuhregouhgsiytreowhyegrh)

'Tis the season (by that I mean for Sherlock Season 3)

Hello blog, how have you been? Good? Good.

So, you know, it's that time of the year again. If you are a child (and for some bizarre and unexplainable reason managed to find your way into the realms of my blog), it is the time of the year when an obese man with a beard squeezes his way down your chimney and leaves your presents under the tree for the exchange of milk and cookies. If you are an adult, it's pretty much the same except you realise you don't have a chimney because no one really has a chimney and your childhood was a total lie.

Have a good one!
Love,
Me.

Barpire (the blogpost where I lost it completely).

There is a (fictional) legend, surreptitiously whispered about a bar around the corner. The bar itself is not called 'The Bar Around The Corner' however contemporary the name seemed, due to the owner's fear of geographical inaccuracy when referring to the bar when the individuals aren't in fact around the corner.

"But what if they were on the same street? Then the bar would be just ahead. Should I call it 'Just Ahead'?" He had wondered to himself. Though the idea had an almost identical flaw and isn't really a solution at all.

 The bar wasn't special and remained unnamed, mainly due to indecisiveness. It bore a blank slate of varnished metal at the front that left enough space for when the indecisive owner finally settles for an appropriate and generally applicable name.

 The (fictional) legend about the bar around the corner was about the owner himself. Though the (fictional) legend remains unbeknownst to him.

 It was that he was a vampire. A life sucking creature of the night that frolics the dark alleyways in search of a prey. This rumour could be blamed on his choice of clothing (collared capes) and the fact that the bar closes precisely by midnight.

 To end this tragic tale, the (fictional) legend of the indecisive bar owner is finally clarified. No, he's not a vampire. He is just an owner of a crappy bar around the corner.

Thoughts on studying (a succinct and eloquently worded account on my feelings towards studying).

I hate it.
So much.

Halloween.

I'm still not quite sure about this festivity, but it is a good excuse to watch Tim Burton films. So, you know, have a good one.

Today's progress:

- almost nothing.
- planning to do one of those montages in films where super cool music plays while I stay up all night manically flipping through books and typing.
- Current essay word count: 252.

Here's one of my favourite short films, if you (like me) do not have the time to watch a 2 hour long flick today:

Continuation. (don't get used to this)

I realise I don't have the ability to focus on just one thing for extended periods of time. Right now, there are 5 tabs open in my browser and there's music from one of them but I'm not sure exactly where. But the music is good so this is not a problem. That was just a series of unnecessary information (aka a summary of my entire blog)

Today's update:

- Cleaned my room.
- Realised I didn't know how to reference correctly.
- Spent a good fraction of the day figuring out how to reference.
- Typed in reference.
- Called human people on the phone.
- Current essay word count: 252.

Will update later. (this is very unlikely).