It’s a Sunday, and there’s no school until Tuesday (because in UP that’s how we roll). My sister has sent my allowance for the coming week, but I’m too lazy to go out and get it, mostly because it’s raining outside and I don’t want to take a bath in this cold. It sucks because I’m on my period so I can’t do my crunches, which amounts to not being able to do anything productive today. Well, I did finish Stephen King’s Blaze, but I was on the last 15 or so pages anyway, so it didn’t take up much time. I’ve been listening to Incubus’ albums for the past few hours, and in the midst of it all I remembered that I miss listening to the Smashing Pumpkins, so I went ahead and looked for a working download of their discography. My internet speed is dismal, however, so I don’t expect it to finish until next week or so (it’s a big discography, okay). It’s also this disappointing internet connection that’s been hindering me from doing another thing that would have made me productive: my homework. I’d love to just go to the library instead, but the school’s closed during Sundays, so it follows that the library is also closed. I do have a ton of readings for my Lit Crit class, but they’re mostly on topics that have already been covered, and the new readings I can’t get a copy of because–yep–the library is closed. There are a lot of books here that I ought to be reading, like The Anthology Of Popular Verses, or my friend’s copy of A Dirge For Prester John Vol. 1: The Habitation Of The Blessed (Catherynne M. Valente is a genius, by the way), or yet another friend’s copy of John Greene’s Looking For Alaska (though this one I would read only out of curiosity about the hype). I haven’t even started on Irvine Welsh’s Glue yet. I just don’t feel like reading, is all. It sounds so anti-intellectual, I know, but to enjoy reading there’s a certain mood that I have to be in (the transfer-me-to-another-universe mood), and even if I was in such a mood it takes a certain level of cogitation to be able to fully get there. If I can’t think properly, as is the case, the experience is wasted. There’s actually a lot of things to be done, but there are also a lot of obstacles in the circumstances that kind of keep me in this glass case of procrastination. Right now all I want to do is lay back down in bed and do nothing for the rest of the day, but if I don’t get out to buy “certain supplies” I’ll girl-bleed all over my bed. Curse girl-bleeding! Agh. It’s this shit weather that’s stopping me from going outside; I can’t even take my Sky Photos. Well, to be honest I didn’t want to take any Sky photos recently, mostly because nothing’s going on up there aside from dull gray rain clouds and drips. Sigh. By the way, I’ve been thinking about moving somewhere else, i.e. exporting my blog. I don’t want to have followers anymore, because it makes me uneasy. I know nobody ever reads my posts other than my poetry, and even those I’m pretty sure people who “liked” them didn’t read. I feel like they just clicked the “poetry” tag and liked everything that’s there. And that’s kind of what’s fueling this feeling of wanting to get away from those dead eyes, you know, those people who aren’t really people but are more of machines who mechanically “like” things, all the while ignoring your more human posts. So yeah, I might stop tagging my posts altogether (or revise my tagging system so that it makes sense only to me), and maybe make a new blog. Or is there any way to block followers? I’ll have to do some more exploring. It’s somewhat tied to the laziness I feel regarding making new posts. For some time I thought I should cater to people and make this blog look presentable, but I figure that’s of no use. So yes, I want to make this blog only for myself again, and for no one else.
It’s almost 2 in the afternoon and I haven’t bathed. After this long-ass rambling I still don’t know what to do with my life today. Hmm. I think I want a grilled cheese sandwich.