alembic

My professor teaches materials as if he's lecturing his (freaking) grandchildren. He has that specific way of speaking that makes you feel embarrassed no matter what, even if he was just paying you compliments (omggg), or picking on you to answer questions (omggg).

And yet love him (as a person) at the same time.

***


There was this girl (she sat right in front on the first row under the professor's nose) who was sketching during my (totally unrelated) class today (on an A2 block of paper, can you say: distracting?) and it made me want to cry sooo bad because I miss pouring out my soul into something artistic of any form.


I just discovered the running track at the balcony of my gym the other day. I mean, I always knew it was there. It beats running on the treadmill, where you just focus on numbers instead of the actual act of running. (Plus, you get to check out the basketball game beneath you)

Numbers do not define you.

Nonsense. They totally do. Grades, time, calories, weight, math 

(just kidding, math doesn't involve numbers anymore)...

Nonsense.

Dry and shriveled rose

Now, the seconds are slipping by, and I have a midterm tomorrow.


It's getting increasingly harder and harder to feed myself everyday. My body doesn't feel like it wants anything anymore................... except sleep. Definitely sleep.
And coffee.
And water.
And sleep.