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another world floating endlessly
On 2003-02-21 at 2:37 p.m.... Today it transpired that your narrator is a MASTER when it comes to writing film theory essays. Who knew? However, I worked it out, and this particular paper contributes the princely sum of 1.25% to my overall degree. Cock. But, right, it's money in the bank. Which incidentally I could also do with. On the subject of me (I get to discuss myself as much as I like. You're a prisoner in my semantic space. Mwuhaha.), I'm currently working for my university's alumni campaign, wherein I am nice to graduates and then mercilessly extort them. It's a lot of fun, not excluding the fantastically scary gay man who goes 'mmmhm' every time I stand up. Which is secretly very flattering. Honestly, though, I just want to go to bed. I was talking to a friend about this, and apparently not everyone feels the same way. He said: 'Eon, the world doesn't get run by people wishing they were in bed', which was pretty disillusioning. I've always held the belief that even the most driven, successful, sharply-creased individuals are only able to be so mercilessly effective because they're operating on the understanding that there's going to be eight hours of dreamy linen luxury at the end of it. Talk about a paradigm shift. I've been trying for three weeks to go to this particular Feeder concert (long, retarded story), and tonight is looking good. Rockin'.
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