Books, and thoughts

Oxford comma. I've started reading again. And I'm glad. I still love Vonnegut. The Breakfast of Champions was sort of funny, but mostly it was enthralling. There was like after line of things I appreciated. On my Kindle I can highlight things, and that's all I do when reading his books. I have to make sure I don't just underline everything because it would ruin the point.

"I had come suddenly to pity them, for I understood how innocent and natural it was for them to behave so abominably, and with such abominable results: They were doing there best to live like people invented in story books."

Why don't people write about life? Vonnegut answered it in his book, but his answer was bullshit and he knows it because he writes about ordinary people.

I've also read Murakami, multiple Bukowski, multiple Wodehouse, and another Bukowski right now. They write about life, if somewhat fancifully on Murakami's part. Why do other people write about shit? Is it really an escape?

Oh well. People are people and are allowed to read what they want. That seems like a cop out too but I don't have an answer.

Reading through my trusty notebook. There's lots of shit in there. Oh well.

I wrote a short story based on my economics lecture. It was fun, but sputtered out pretty quickly. Trade off between food and books!

I like this bit, but it's because I just wrote it two minutes or so ago. "I don't give a shit. But I do. It's an awful feeling. But I don't have to dwell on it any longer. It's just a part of life. Is that normal? Why am I so worried about being normal?"

Does normal exist? Dunno. Thanks y'all. Not advertising this one on the Face, because it's very irrelevant. If anyone wants to find it, they will. I'm the real audience so that's what matters.

On Wallabies, and Youtube

There honestly isn't a whole lot going on right now. I am going to start going to what appear to be bi-weekly meetings of the "Socialist Alternative." They have had meetings about Marxism and on Tuesday they had a meeting about Occupy I do believe. I haven't had a change to go yet, but I am pretty sure it will be worthwhile, and give me some blog fodder. School is pretty much exactly the same as back home, except that I have "tutorials" in all of my classes in addition to the lectures.

You still don't actually have to go to lectures, but in the tutorials you work problems or discuss or whatever depending on the class. It is much easier to just go to the tutes and learn everything there than go to lectures, but don't tell anyone that. I still go to the lectures that I like, but I can watch the other ones online after the fact. Pretty relaxed.

Short Story 1

It doesn't have a title yet, but maybe I'll think of one eventually. I can't remember the last time I wrote something that wasn't obligatory or non-fiction.


Onwards. Upwards.

"This could be the end...."

I glared at my iPod and ripped the aux cable out. Figures. The shuffle loves insulting me. Isn't it ironic? Don't you think? It's not like I'm driving off into the sunset, never to be heard from again.

Am I?

Three days ago everything was fine. It had all changed so suddenly, but please, don't try to empathize. Now is the time to be looking forwards. Onwards and upwards, they always say. Who are they? The rich, mostly. They are the ones who have hardships when they can only afford to go to Mexico this year instead of Italy. We all go through tough times, but together we move on and the rich keep moving up.

Through the present

I'm really tired of talking about things that happened way in the past, so I'm just going to summarise up to there, then I'll actually be in the present and be able to write about things as they happen. Seems pretty exciting. After Christchurch, I took a bus up to Methven, and skiied and did other things. The skiing was pretty great on the first day, and I got to hit up some really cool shit. They're called the towers, and they were rather terrifying. The second day of skiing was cut a bit short, because I kind of sort of ate shit really hard. I fell probably halfway down the mountain after losing both of my skis. Was kind of terrifying, but I'm still in one piece so no worries.

The only other thing of note from Methven was Saturday night. Apparently once a year the Brown Pub (the other is the Blue Pub, great names) has a very kiwi party.