for the first time in my life, i'm actually burned-out from school and i'm not even doing my thesis yet. last week was complete hell for me and i found myself losing whatever flare i had left for literature. if my graduation date was nowhere near my line of sight, i would probably drop-out right about now and enroll in a culinary arts institute. i love cooking and i've always dreamt of becoming a chef (or at least marrying one). however, since i'm being forced to graduate and thus use my literature background, i think i'd still like to enroll in a culinary arts institute and use that knowledge to become a food critique. eating all the truffle laden masterpieces of the world and writing crazy ass articles while high on food is what i call a job. you see, i've found the idea of eating-on-the-job interesting ever since i came across a copy of 'My Best Friend's Wedding' in our vhs collection when i was eight. being a food critique equals free food. what's not to love?

besides, being a literature major has seriously sucked dry my primal love for reading. i now find myself unconsciously critiquing every damn thing i read and that's not how i want to experience a text. i want to have an affair with a character the way krugelmass did with mdm bovary. i want to have the need to scribble their name on my shoe like the way i did holden. i want to psychotically obsess about them and sit around in a daze wondering how it would be like to have them as a friend. i want to watch the characters dance in my head and not have to question why they're dancing (they dance because they want to dance and not because of some underlying neurosis that critics force upon a text).

but whatever, i'd probably get over this in a few days. i blame my absence from the band scene and the fact that i haven't seen the girls in ages for this psychotic burn-out episode i'm having. i think i miss the stage and the mic that i sometimes accidentally swallow.

which reminds me: i should practice guitar soon. i haven't touched spike since september and the band wants a new song with killer riffs. i'm afraid my fingers have dramatically lost their speed and since my callouses have disappeared, i dread the pain that comes with practice - having the strings cut your skin raw and your wrist throb from supporting the dance of your fingers isn't a pleasurable experience.