i feel like i'm stuck in one of those cyclical time Marquez novels, where time and actions keep repeating themselves and playing themselves out over and over again. i've spent a good portion of my day surfing blogshops, going back to the same blogs over and over again for no particular reason except to see if anything there will catch my eye again. i've gone onto perez a couple dozen times too. i keep playing with my hair, pouring myself cups of water to drink. and flicking the tv switch on and off.


when all's been said and done, i think my essay is just turning out very very badly and i don't know what the hell i'm writing anymore. i should be a lot more panicky, but strangely, i'm not in the least. i'm in this weird Zen state where i'm just doing everything else except my essay. i think i'm trying to pretend it doesn't exist.

ugh and i'm still feeling disgruntled and unsettled and too too restless.