I probably should be studying but I thought, I haven't posted in a really long time, so why not? I'm currently sitting at the glass dining room table in a sunny room, and I've accidentally caused an orange to roll onto the floor while erasing too furiously. The table is strewn with papers everywhere, a Vogue magazine and an Asian cookbook buried underneath piles of chemistry notes. The clock ticking on the wall is becoming increasingly annoying, but hey, such are the quirks of sitting here. Utter silence would be even more irritating, in my opinion.
Of course my laptop is sitting on top of this mess of a table, and for once my phone is nowhere to be seen. I've been oversharing lately. I made one of those spam Instagram accounts, and despite my efforts to stay off social media by cutting off access to the time-sucking, life-distracting snapchat, posting is an addiction. There is just so much in my life to share and document - no matter how mundane - or feelings to let out via posed selfies.
I've been following all these quirky models lately, with envious lives and that cool individuality vibe going on that's actually not all that individual. I love their funky jackets and fringes, and all the pink! But seeing them jet off to India or wear fancy clothes in London, or seeing girls in my own city imitating this look and doing it well, it makes me a little... jealous.
I read somewhere that you know when you're happy when you see someone thriving in some way, and you feel happy for them. Jealousy is a sign that you're simply not content with something in your life, or else you wouldn't be feeling jealous, would you? So perhaps it's this testing week. Perhaps it's the fact that I've locked myself in all weekend, trying to study but feeling miserable, alone and ugly while doing so. I read somewhere this morning that 'Another woman's beauty is not the absence of your own', and however cheesy that is, read it again.
I've been reading different books lately. It's as if I've strayed away from those young adult novels and moved on to what they call 'literature'. It's not so much that I actually enjoy this literature. In fact, I don't think I paid the first quarter of the book I'm reading any attention at all. It's just that when I try to read a feel-good young adult book, I feel like I'm watching a really bad movie. I feel as if the characters don't make sense because they're simply not realistic, and as much as reading is supposed to be a sort of safe haven in a fictional perfect world, I can't help but feel irritated. I want to read about realistic people who make realistic decisions and are put under realistic circumstances - because it makes the world I'm reading about seem more persuasive. While I didn't pay attention to the first part of the book I'm reading, and while the story isn't as drama-filled and interesting, the characters and their relationships are like a painting of how the author sees people in real life, and maybe it'll teach me a thing or two.
I've lost my safe haven in Gilmore Girls. For five whole seasons their lives were practically perfect, and now there's a rift. For seven episodes Rory will be making bad decisions, which is unheard of, and she and her mother will be fighting. I don't feel like watching a show where Rory has no direction. Gilmore Girls has lost its warm and fuzzy feeling, and I don't know what to do.