Friday, August 3, 2012

Angels


As enriching as it is to know exactly how one can carbonate and store milk tea in a can, I think my sense of awe and wonder is better off for not knowing. One day I hope I hope to feast on the tinned inside of such cans and romp around in the land of the rising sun, at the moment I'm stuck with a laptop that refuses to play movies with sound as well as a multitude of online assessment and quizzes to plough through before work starts... it's another exciting Friday night alright.



If there's one thing that I've learnt after seeming to have battled and fallen flat on my face after every social attempt in high school, is that words are the cheapest, easiest and least traumatic form of therapy around. Even seeing seeing loud and verbal content looped in permanent marker has a soothing effect on my frazzled nerves but I do apologise to anyone offended by the above captured image. I don't have to completely all together at the moment and just last night I indulged in the guilty pleasure of crying in the shower as well as muffling my sobs with an already soaked towel. Nothing makes you feel better than being alone, looking look an absolute mess because it's impossible to look serene while being truly upset and cleansing oneself of any squashed down feelings. I felt like I had one foot halfway in the grave and it's only the second semester of university, but I've managed to calm down a bit more since said incident.

Lately I've been obsessed with a cover version of Madonna's 'burning up' by Adalita as well as The X X's tune, 'Angels' that are both sung with heart-breaking honesty and raw emotion with twinkly little guitar chords thrown in between. Well that's not entirely true, Adalita plays a mean Gibson SG guitar with rhythmic power chords as well as a live microphone that echoes her long stretched out vowels. Were I not so blazingly in love with my long and feminine tresses I'd be keen to chop them short with short shaved bits too and once again pick up any of the many guitars in my house for a good jam sesh.



I wish I had the flair to wear Lita lace boots to university on a regular basis, but my current regime is already taking its toll on the soles of my feet and there's nothing sickeningly cute to wear in my wardrobe with tough studded black boots that sits just nicely along the legs. Bummer, it's still too cold anyway to attempt an outfit that shows that much skin but I've comfortable gotten used to wearing mountains of layers of shirts under all my nice sweaters and jeans for a little extra added warmth this Winter.


It's about time I told everyone of my latest obsession, *clears throat* guys I am Daria obsessed and I totally enjoy it especially when I am manically bored on the bus and have a spare seat next to me to and no one over my shoulder to judge me pedantically. Although there was one fellow passenger seated in the next row that decided turning around and smiling in a helpful and sympathetic way would help my blogging...


After giving my high-top Van skate shoes the boot via eBay, I've finally plucked up the courage to wear my Dr Martens armed with two pairs of socks as well as emergency band-aids to call upon in dire situations. I'm a bit mad that I've already managed to scratch the floral embossed motif which is subtly etched into the black leather exterior, but I'm also thinking of treating myself to a a knock-off pair of patent purple combat boots for days when my mod could certainly do with a pick-me-up. It's a shame that I don't have the time or creativity to customise a pair for myself as shown above; unless I miraculously become handy with covering boots in abstract painted velvet or velour, then I'm content to keep them as is. No great love of arts and crafts has been ignited in my heart since I was about seven, but maybe I'll catch fire yet.


I had so looked forward to learning about Astronomy this semester instead of the bone-chilling boredom and mind-numbing monotony of a purely mathematical based unit, but instead the steady realisation that despite the fascinating nature of this course's content, the lecturers lead a lot to be desired. Since developing a love of reading and writing at a young age, to be left with some of the most inarticulate of teachers within a faculty is dissatisfying to say the least. It's like their brains can't quite keep up with their mouths and that results are that of stranded fish gasping dismally for air while in their non-political suits and boots behind a lectern. The projected slide shows also seem to lack grammatical corrections as well as content that places fractured bullet points in any setting that may hope to make sense. Yes I know I'm a literary snob in terms of the everyday,but at least I'm willing to admit it. It just seems to spoil my new class so much when I mentally correct and amend every point with red pen and lose sight of the actual discussion points.



Despite Etsy


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