I CRY WOLF!

She seemed a bit like Cathy, I thought as I walked across that sleeping part of town. Well, not really. She wasn’t, I reasoned - and it was bitter to think she was. The notion was merely brought about by the book I read on the bus and admittedly encouraged by the indignation I carried with me everywhere. I should have let go of that a long time ago, I concluded. I was just passing through a street that lead up the hill when an apparition of a man brought be out of my reverie. I stopped by the bar at the corner of the street and inspected him briefly. He was a human-shaped tree who made a habit of scaring the hell out of me on a fairly regular basis. I commenced walking again and checked my watch to avert my gaze from the man. It was the 32nd of February. Apparently. God, how fitting it seems, I thought. He nodded as we walked on. “So how come nothing ever happens?” I asked finally after a moment of silence. “What do you mean?” He responded. I remained quiet for a bit and then he went on. “A lot is happening, you just never see it.” He said inaudibly. “Remember back when you were a kid? You spent most of the days imagining what it’s going to be like to the age you are now.” He explained. “And now you either think back to those times or do the very same.” He was right - he had a tendency of being right. “Well, yes. But now, it just seems like I’m waiting for things to happen.” I replied. “Yes, but there is life in the meantime and stars in the sky.” he finished. Yeah, I thought, it’s been a while since I stared at the stars. 

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Going to see Mumford and Sons tonight!

I have recently made a decision to give up both coffee and alcohol completely. Wish me luck. 

So it seems that I have been accepted to study architecture and urbanism in a school I reckon to be the best in the country. Praise the Lord!

Having left the others on a pretext of a need to withdraw some cash, I sauntered across the square absentmindedly. It was a not a lie, you know, I might have done so, but then I changed my mind on the way to the groceries, where, despite my effort, I was unable to find that delicious kind of cookies that have little pieces of chocolate in them, and nothing else could quite do the trick. I lingered for a while outside of the shop, partly because I considered doing the said and returning to the pub, but mostly because the shop assistant was watching me with a suspicion she lacked the slightest effort to hide, through the glass, as I had left the shop not having bought a single item. When, at last, I felt that I have stuck around for long enough to pledge my innocence in the matter, I resolved on going back to the hotel and go on with the reading. I had been stuck on Emily Bronte for a dangerously long time and notwithstanding the pub’s only redeeming quality, which is the nominal price for which they sold beer, liquor and other beverages, there is only so much liquorice coke one can drink and, you know, not get diabetes or something. And I’m sure I had been a terrible companion, anyway, I thought, making my way through the snowy streets. I listened to Mumford and Sons and kept on imagining myself playing a cover version of the given song, that’s something I do quite a lot. Plus the show was less then a month away now, and that excited me immensely. 

The hotel room was dark upon my entry and the view the window provided was easily discernable due to a lack of reflection. My clothes reeked with cigarette smoke as I took them off, abhorred. The origin of the smoke being the cigarettes of people who would fain give me a lifestyle advice. Boy, I could never date a girl who smokes, I thought, not only for the cigarettes - and I got stuck on some distant thought of some could-have-been as I scrutinized the neoclassical building outside. It was of no exceptional quality, but it’s sad state of nearly a ruin evoked in me a keen sense of sympathy. It looked quite abandoned but for the one room that remained alit, and seemed a rather fitting metaphor for someone I knew. 

The exams seemed alright, so far and I was glad to make it to the interview I would attend on the morrow. Having showered and thus rid of the smoke, I ensconced myself on one of the two beds that were in my room, leaving the other a superfluous reminder of my solitariness, and immersed myself in the pale world the book was, until the slumber overtook me.