Dear Aditi,
I wish I could comfort you in some way. But I do the exact same thing, so me telling you anything about it really wouldn't be valid.
Also, I really wish our chapters were like that. I mean, it's weird yes. But it is interesting. The last english chapter I did was about the decline of birds in India. Except pigeons. Pigeons are just everywhere.
There is this one pigeon that is always trying to get into my bathroom and every morning I try to insult it to make it go away. Maybe closing the window would work, but I work with insults and it's great. I did tell the pigeon one time that he was very loser. The pigeon might be a she, I don't know. I don't care enough to figure it out.
I should try writing pigeon fanfiction, I mean after that really weird naagin smut I wrote this would be rather tame.
"His eyes bore into mine.
The were bright red againist his shiny blue feather.
Everywhere I looked he was there.
It's like I couldn't get him out of my head.
And all the poop.
Poop.
Poop."
I wish I could comfort you in some way. But I do the exact same thing, so me telling you anything about it really wouldn't be valid.
Also, I really wish our chapters were like that. I mean, it's weird yes. But it is interesting. The last english chapter I did was about the decline of birds in India. Except pigeons. Pigeons are just everywhere.
There is this one pigeon that is always trying to get into my bathroom and every morning I try to insult it to make it go away. Maybe closing the window would work, but I work with insults and it's great. I did tell the pigeon one time that he was very loser. The pigeon might be a she, I don't know. I don't care enough to figure it out.
I should try writing pigeon fanfiction, I mean after that really weird naagin smut I wrote this would be rather tame.
The were bright red againist his shiny blue feather.
Everywhere I looked he was there.
It's like I couldn't get him out of my head.
And all the poop.
Poop.
Poop."
Yes, I am a writer. Okay, maybe I am insulting writers saying that. I am better at other stuff. Like rolling my mouth into a ‘W’. I got serious talent.
So, I have a problem. Apart from the other usually stuff. This is the part of the post where I complain about and say I'm going to try to change but go back to doing the same thing again and again.
But the thing is I am sad and I don’t know why. I feel like Antonio in the start of Merchant of Venice. You probably know what I am talking about, and probably can recite the lines. No, I am sure that you can. Anyway, I feel like Antonio. And you are my Bassanio. Portia is Jin, which I think is actually very fitting. Honestly, I don’t remember the other characters nor do I want to at the moment.
The reason I think I am sad is because I am always tired. I slept 10 hours. And at the most useless time to sleep, that is when everyone else is awake. Plus, I don’t really have a reason to smile. Usually my reason to smile is you. And it’s not that you aren’t there. I mean physically you aren’t here, but I am always talking to you. But it’s that there is always something to look forward to. Either you coming here or me going there, but that can’t happen as often as it does and it is just now dawning on me. So my solution is I am going to spend 85 rupees buying a red bull to keep me awake.
Love,
upa.
No comments:
Post a Comment