I lied about ‘September’s Only Post’, but writing calms me, so I’m just sneaking here to write a little. I have failed all attempts at writing witty, funny and “quality” posts and I don’t really care if no one reads this blog anymore (well actually I do because I’m desperate for attention sometimes but I’m trying to be the good guy here) so I’m going to write whatever pleases me.
These days, the only things that make me happy are Harry Potter, You Me At Six, iSketch, tweeting with Sasha, and the knowledge that I’ll be watching Paramore live on October 19th. Another shallow part of me wonders if anyone’s missing me on Facebook. Ha!
I’ve had a Harry Potter movie marathon the week before and I was bloody pleased. And I’ve been talking to myself in British accents lately it’s starting to seem funny. As I am writing this, I am speaking these words in my mind in a very weak but manageable British accent. My love for Oliver and James Phelps have increased loads, especially after Prisoner of Azkaban. You probably don’t know what I’m writing by this point but it’s okay, you don’t have to understand if you don’t want to.
I’ve been keeping a dream diary like what Professor Trelawney gave as a homework in Order of the Phoenix. I laugh when I remember those vivid and amazingly incredulous dreams. How exactly does my mind work? It’d be great if I ever pluck up the courage to lucid-dream one day. It’d be creepy, but that’s one of the tasks I’m going to do before I die.
Speaking of death, I’ve been paranoid lately, leaving notes saying ‘should I die or something, read this…” or something like that. Right, so if I really do die, someone read my Tumblrs, this blog and my personal diary (it’s wrapped in this white wrapping paper with hearts on it). Does it make me morbid that I love thinking how people are going to feel if I die? That makes me selfish in a way I guess.
Being away from people during these few days of holidays is actually quite comforting. I don’t know if I’ll be happy or sad when school reopens. I just hope PMR bloody ends as quick as possible so I won’t feel all these restrictions biting my head off every few minutes or so.
Now I feel like erasing everything I wrote, just like how I deleted every single thing in my email inbox today without even sifting through it. But it had 3850 messages and 92 more in the Junk folder so you can’ exactly blame me. Anyway, I probably won’t erase because I’m so stuck up and would want people to read this and take pity of me and I don’t even know if that’s what I want or not. Anyway, I’m going to go now, and if you’re reading this, well, I applaud you for staying with me for so long. Thank you.
PS. I’m rereading my Potter books so if you see the cover of a Potter book under the What I’m Reading section, don’t go around saying that I’m inadequately equipped with the information about the wizarding world.