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This can usually be found on Twitter.
Six hours, that is. Then, I face my stats exam - the one exam which worries me the most, ironically because it's the one I've been paying the most attention to this sem, the one I find most interesting, the one with the best lecturer, and the one which makes the most consistant sense (although I guess in that regard atleast, Evolution is a close second).
I'm so fired up now. Not so much about the play - actually, I'm getting quite nervous as to whether it'll even work - but just about writing, about making up and telling stories. About coming up with something which is, in its own small, humble way, a work of art, like a pot on a potter's wheel, all twisted and convoluted but (hopefully) still recognizable as a pot.
God. So. Amazingly. Unmotivated. To. Work. Aiyee.
On the upside, tomorrow might turn out to be a cool day in the lab.
p.s. Hey, Yvette: is this true?
This post was posted by Unknown at 3:00 am
"A beach house," he said, "doesn't even have to be on the beach. Though the best ones are. We all like to congregate," he went on, "at boundary conditions". "Really?" said Arthur. "Where land meets water. Where earth meets air. Where body meets mind. Where space meets time. We like to be on one side, and look at the other."
