At uni in the computer lab in my break between classes, trying to get the juices flowing. Cute girls man. Rawr. Had a sweet stylistics tut this morning on the spectrum of direct - indirect speech and its consequences on the reader. Quite fascinating really but I spent most of my time thinking how cool I was in my new jacket and twirling my pen around in my fingers. I'm so vain. Although I do look pretty cool. Haha. 

I bought it at Myer yesterday alongside some sweet purple jeans that are all stretchy and comfy and a t-shirt that has David Bowie's head superimposed onto one of the famous paintings of Jesus, offering his heart. Sacrilege and Bowie in one. My kind of shirt. 

I didn't sleep much last night. Spent a fair part of the day singing in the newfound swag of my jacket. I'm so rock now. Then I wrote for a while about breaking up with Em. Amazing how much you can learn about yourself in detailed retrospect. Things like 'I'm an asshole,' and, well, mostly just that I'm an asshole. Oh well. These things happen. How's that for an all-encompassing rationalisation. Kerchow! Take that, guilt. Then I fell asleep watching Archer, woke at 3am and watched the fresh prince of bel air, went for a bike ride and came to uni, where I now sit typing drivel into a white box while antagonising Olivia. 

Need some new heaphones. Need to finish stories for class. Not sure which ones to hand in. Might make a hodge podge scrapbook of poetry for intro instead. Then there's just the exercises, 1500 words for short story, that analysis of The Hollow Men for fundamentals (seriously need to find out when that's due) and an edit of Ol' Shaky. Can probably just smash it out eh.