The exam didn’t go well, and I will continuously blame myself and feel bad as planned. I fell asleep, woke up with no clues about hot-rolling pearlitic 1025’s microstructure when heated to austenitization and blah, realized how fatigued I was the other night after the grueling exam in 21, and felt so fucked-up, and shit, and shit, and shit.
I am living in shit.
I slept the entire afternoon away like I’m under the influence of zolpidem. Mother woke me up at 8pm with a plate of hamburg steak and a succulent slice of papaya. I still felt full so I gobbled up everything mindlessly; my taste buds weren’t working as per usual anyway. Stayed in bed afterwards while getting down to finishing Une Femme est Une Femme. I loved every aspect of the movie by the way. The actors were dynamic and effortless, the script was well-versed and triste, and the direction was artistic in such a way that immobile and vernacular objects such as walls add to the movie’s quiet charm. I also enjoyed the concept of creating a direct and present interaction with the audience, be it shown through the lenses or through words. In this way, the temporary passivity I often feel when watching movies is shifted towards the concept of being in the now. It’s like waiting for your burger at the fast-food shop’s counter while simultaneously eating your already-served french fries.
I am quite anticipating the imminent tomorrow, because it’s friday, friday… I gotta get down on friday because today is Thursday and Saturday after Friday.
