I don't know why...
I don't know why...
But today I am in a bad mood.
Weary and worn down and bitter and mean.
I'll feel better in the morning.
Last night I couldn't sleep, so I took down one of the books I had bought for 50p at the Charity shop and started reading. The idea was to find something nice and boring so that I could get to sleep, since something that always seemed to happen to me when I was at university was that I would set aside time to read a set text, and I would wind up nodding off.
As it happened, I picked out This Boy's Life by Tobias Wolff, the autobiographical book that the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro was based on. Like I said, I wanted something boring, and I figured that the self-obsessed scribblings of a middle-aged man writing about his traumatic youth would probably put me to sleep in no time.
Nope.
I read 120 pages before I forced myself to put it down. Then I read another 25 pages on the tube as I rode to and from Selfridges, where I had two pairs of Cheap Monday Stretch Jeans set aside (tomorrow I have to take them to the drycleaners to have them taken up four inches... damn my being short).
There is something in the book that resonates with me, even more than the movie did. There is something that scares me a lot as well.
Anyways, it is time for me to get out of here, since this techno taco stand is closing.
Over and out,
J
But today I am in a bad mood.
Weary and worn down and bitter and mean.
I'll feel better in the morning.
Last night I couldn't sleep, so I took down one of the books I had bought for 50p at the Charity shop and started reading. The idea was to find something nice and boring so that I could get to sleep, since something that always seemed to happen to me when I was at university was that I would set aside time to read a set text, and I would wind up nodding off.
As it happened, I picked out This Boy's Life by Tobias Wolff, the autobiographical book that the movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro was based on. Like I said, I wanted something boring, and I figured that the self-obsessed scribblings of a middle-aged man writing about his traumatic youth would probably put me to sleep in no time.
Nope.
I read 120 pages before I forced myself to put it down. Then I read another 25 pages on the tube as I rode to and from Selfridges, where I had two pairs of Cheap Monday Stretch Jeans set aside (tomorrow I have to take them to the drycleaners to have them taken up four inches... damn my being short).
There is something in the book that resonates with me, even more than the movie did. There is something that scares me a lot as well.
Anyways, it is time for me to get out of here, since this techno taco stand is closing.
Over and out,
J
posted by the.exile at 8:21 pm
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