I tried changing my blogskin; I've tried it at least once before. Doesn't work. I'd like something a little less idyllic than this, the clouds and things are fine. I need the whole image to fit, don't you know. Felt like removing all the photos; photos make a blog personal and this is not meant to be a personal blog because of photos. I don't need photos to stamp my mark over, hardly. Photos add a face to this place and I'd. rather not. No visual, no visual. Words are all that's needed. But then I can't remove the photos because I firmly believe that my posts are worth something, even if I regret putting them up afterward. Which is why there're so few personal personal posts. Ignore the ones this month please, they were friggin' emotional and yes yes I fell. I have my human side you know you know. So as it is I can only ramble and hope the photos disappear right down to the ubiquitous next page, previous page, the page that isn't material, the nonexistent page if. you don't click on the little link at the side and please don't. I like my perception of my blog to be the one everyone has. No wait. I like everyone's perception of my blog to be the same as I have. Bossy, yes I know. Comes with being the older one. Cue for my snooty face.
The main light's off, but the study light's on so my room's darkened because I've got a lovely little girl napping on my dark redden bed. Not with blood, mind you, neither decomposing nor fresh. It's just the tribal lines, that's all. She's gently patting the bed with the feet now, that's all of her I can see with my peripheral vision anyway. oh wait. Can she sleep with music? I forget. She can't study with music, that I know. and then I remember that once she fell asleep on my red rug and even jaded of aerosmith wouldn't budge her. I had to leave my keys with mai ahn before meeting the prof. Don't you start getting ideas that my room is a giant chinese lantern, now. I had to match the cream walls and wood coloured funiture. Red goes well enough. But then again I'm bored of describing my room; the [outdated] video's on one of the previous posts that jeremy so kindly [ahem] did for me. key descriptions notwithstanding. rachel is mad huh. well done, well done. I've got a reputation on youtube for all the world to see. Still, let me first declare that my room is Very Much Nicer now. very very much nicer. I do take pride in these things, y'know. Little touches here and there; not concious to the visitor but that's the whole point. You don't want people to start analysing what makes your room so homey; you want them to exclaim oh how gorgeous! and that's enough satisfaction. I don't want my style copied, no siree. And yes, I am proud to say that I have received compliments for my room. So don't call me a bimbo when I insist that egbert nalgene the second has to complement me. So yes, trust me when I say I have a cosy room. Even if it's sloppy now from all the exam work. sigh. unironed clothes piled high on my single seat sofa, bed undone. purple bedroom slipper unceremoniously flipped the other way round, lying undignified on my ikea rug that joel bought. credit where credit's due, confessions when needed. Even when uneeded. I could have said that I've got a beaut room and have left it at that, and I think that's what jerome would think I should have done. shrug. So sue me. I'm sorry I can't do the carefree thing, that I introspect too much. You wanted to be drunk and happy all the time remember. in answer to kp's question. This thinking's part of me; I can't help it I can't hide it anymore than draco can hide a part of his self. Whoever draco might be. I suspect it's draco malfoy from harry potter, but I hope not because I'm not overfond of that. Then again maybe you do have it, you are like [dare I say me?] but you'd tear it apart from you if you could because it's your burden and bane. Will you not embrace it?
I could go on, but I should not. There are such things called exams, there are. Besides, I've been writing a whole lot lately. Lack of simulation, really. Have I said this before. I go blog- reading and that's not much updated [and all sorts of other priggish reasons I do not care to state. One needs to be tactful, after all.] and I don't much like visiting new places; too voyueristic it feels. Too much, too much. There's only so much my little brain can take. New readings are unsettling, and not always up to expectation. I think I would like to write a book one day. Well hopefully all this nonese will cover and pushpushpush down the photos. nonese. ha. what I type, indeed. I've been in another world while writing, and I'm only coming out now. Where people talk commonly. And then a call from daddy comes so I am forced rather abruptly back where I was. Not that I mind, daddy's a dear. He's telling me of the benefits of vit.C, as much as I can gather that little pillet does something to neurons so that they "are freer". I don't mind, maybe if I ate them I wouldn't say things like smow floothly anymore. More importantly, I wouldn't be caught saying them.
Alright alright, enough.
[pushing down the space, maybe more photos will be gone that way. photos that reek of normalacy.]
No comments:
Post a Comment