In the past month or so of this blog’s hibernation, I have suffered writers’ block, too little sleep, coffee intoxication, bad grades, and general tiredness. I have rejoiced over sleep on the weekends, coffee waking me up in the mornings, good grades, and general me-ness. It’s quite a struggle, yeah?
I’ve matured a bit. At least, I hope I have. Because I’m trying to be a better person. The choice of the school-year has been good grades or everything else. In order to keep my good grades, I’ve sacrificed the world. Perhaps not that much, but a great deal of happiness. I am in love with The History of Love by Nicole Krauss. Leo Gursky is the epitome of who I am? Something along those lines. Forever lonely, but it’s okay.
In other news, I am attempting (and failing) NaNoWriMo. Here is an excerpt.
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When two people of opposite genders hung out together a lot, a great deal of people assumed incorrect ideas.
Lance was really quite a good-looking guy on top of having an attractive personality. He was pretty quiet in groups but lively during one-on-one conversations. We had been friends since freshman spring when we both took philosophy and were paired up for a project. He loved analyzing things and making inferences from his observations even if he was wrong.
He loved painting but only painted landscapes. He always said he was afraid to even try and capture something as complex as a human during a moment of time. It would never quite embrace every aspect of the person. Lance called it his “Person Painting Dilemma.” I liked to call it the “P. P. Dilemma.” He would always sigh after I mentioned it.