so it's july and i now have about less than 2 months to cough up 75 more pages of my novel and an essay detailing the creative process behind said novel. i am so behind and feeling so detached from the life i had to put on hold just so i might finish this novel in time.

i miss everyone. i hate staying locked in my room, every single boring day, squeezing words out of my stubborn brain which refuses to co-operate with deadlines i've set for myself by shutting down whenever i have to finish a few chapter. i want to instead go out, drink a vat of alcohol, get laid and never write again - or at least never write for a long long long long long while.

but no, i have to graduate and finish this damn thing.
so here's to more weeks locked up at home!

Chapter 12

We were never built to be solitary creatures. We're meant to mingle. We're meant to go to the occasional parties laced with red plastic cups and throbbing music, where we'd eventually find ourselves, hours later, head suspended over the toilet bowl, puking ours guts out while some guy, in grimy shit-laced boxer shorts, lays unconscious by the door, holding onto a lime green sequined dress.

We're meant to purposely position ourselves by the self-help section of the neighborhood conglomerate book-superstore, mulling over books – which we have no use for except as a foot rest while we summon dwindling reality-television morals to permeate our consciousness - on the pretense of hunting down a lone man searching for companionship or an explanation on why he spends his nights, eating out of a cardboard box re-heated in a microwave oven while watching re-runs of Barney&Friends.

We're meant to hog a table at Starbucks, an order of Chai Latte, barely half-drunk, cooling in between ours hands, our eyes on the lookout for a man we stalked on an online dating website, littered with pictures of smiling happy couples wearing matching sweatshirts on its front page, while we pretend to peruse a newspaper turned over to the section on World Affairs.

We're meant to cruise around the supermarket for our hours, with our trolley barely filled with food, easing down the aisles one-by-one, touching every jar and can filled with tasteless food products, hoping to bump into someone who'd fill us in on the best way to cook chicken before we'd charm our way into getting invited over to their place for traditional home-cooked pot roast and potatoes.

We're meant to have a Myspace, Facebook and Twitter account, which we update with lies every few seconds, all in an attempt to deceive ourselves into thinking that we are social butterflies with millions of friends - who knows nothing about us but our username and profile picture which we change every few weeks - and thus should never worry ever again about not getting greeted a happy birthday.

We're meant to never stare out our apartment window, our body parked in front of a computer with the screen frozen on a website advertising cheap international air-fares, fingers resting dead on the mouse, unable to click on the SUBMIT button, while we look at clouds dance itself to forming shapes, alone.

did that make any sense? because i feel like i'm starting to not make sense...