Chocolat. Roux. Lousy ending, for such a fantastic buildup! I am sourly dissapointed. Nevertheless the movie holds an appeal to it, knowing how directors never stick to their books' plots. Johnny Depp, definately worth watching. Hah.

So whimsical lately, and the sadness doesn't seem to leave. I shan't do much about it, but I can't seem to bring myself to study, nor do anything seemingly productive. I don't feel guilty, the amount of chocolate I have consumed is highly provoking, though. Perhaps I should write out some schedule.. a vague resemblence of one, at least, and annoy myself into anonymous conformity of it.

I wonder vaguely about next year, about my doings, my weight, my place in a large campus full of crawling students, a face among millions of others. At times I hate the anonymity, and at times it is the best thing I can get. I hate this, this extended holiday that has become so much of a dream to me. I wonder if I can extend my stay when I go home, and realise that if I get a job this crazy fantasy, this satisfying of my wildest dreams will die, crushed and broken, and so cruelly devastated. Is it so much to ask? for time out with my best of friends, for a little more than two weeks, I understand that this sort of luxury is not very condoned, yet I crave it all the more. I have become a little more demanding.. knowing I have been denied the things I love the most- my friends, out hangouts, our little dances... shared dreams. Sullen, even, in my retort to all this change, a certain subtlety about it, a flashing glimpse of fire, but that is all.

More of me is pouring out slowly here.. and I take heart that perhaps a little more of my normality is returning. I don't know, and I don't want to care. Perhaps, as gramps says, it is feigned indifference.

[somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.... sigh.]