Irony, Definition Of.

It’s seems now that Uni is over for another year I have lost my best blog topic; namely essays and how not to do them. It seems that this blog thrived on my insightful (I’m sure someone out there found it insightful…right? Mum?) commentaries on my inability to stay focused on the task at hand. I spent a great deal of time and energy discussing the merits of not essaying in most of (if not all of) my posts. In fakt most started off with introduction paragraph (similar to this) explaining all of the essays I should have been writing but wasn’t. But now that those essays are all done and the year is slowly winding down, I find myself drifting aimlessly around the Internet with a distinct lack of intent.

Procrastination only works when you have something to procrastinate about.

However as a serial procrastinator (that’s still immaturely hilarious just because it sounds the same) I strive to be unproductive, so instead of doing other things instead of my assignments, I’m now doing nothing instead of doing other things. I now have all the time in the world to do whatever I want…but my compulsive procrastination is getting in the way of my blissful lack of activity by forcing me to participate in an avoidance of a blissful lack of activity. I’m like a leaf that was once caught in a breeze but has now become stuck in a holding pattern over an air conditioning vent, swirling around and around in circles. See I’ve even started making analogies involving nature.

So what am I going to do now that I have SPARE TIME? I saw a quote on the Internet today that said: lyk dis if you feels. Underneath that was another one about a guy and a girl who stabbed one another in an act of love “five-ever”. On the next page however was something useful (as is the way with most Internet based wisdom, you have to trawl through a lot of pseudo-motivational images of birds and sunsets and intertwined hands talking about individuality and life and how beauty is found in all things if you look hard enough posted by people who don’t believe any of it but are just trying to create an air of intellectuality and spirituality, but really are taking selfies of themselves in the bathroom with the piece of fruit they have started calling their boyfriend/girlfriend/mother-in-law. Parenthesis motherfucker) about time being a form of currency that resets at the end of the day and none of the extra hours or minutes or seconds are carried over, so you should make sure you spend it wisely…because time doesn’t reward you for saving up.

Anyway this quote did three things. First my imagination ran away with me (we had to come back home though because, in our haste to elope we had forgotten to pack sensible footwear and we couldn’t leave again after that because it just looks awkward and silly) and I started to think of this place where wasted time accumulates over the years which then turned into a concept of immortality based on saving a few extra seconds here and there in order to live a little bit longer. Second I got annoyed at the poor grammar (he kept asking me for spare change despite my repeated refusal). And thirdly I thought to myself: “Tom Reed you spend money like a sixteen-year-old who’s just been given a bank account for the first time, you should be kicking asre [sic] at this spending time folly.” I even used the word folly.

So I quickly seized upon this momentary increase in purpose and decided to do something about it. Of course I’m still a procrastinator at heart so I couldn’t immediately start behaving like supporting characters from Dead Poets Society and go and do that Latin thing Robin Williams tells them to do in a creepy voice. No. I had to do it my way (P.S When did I change tense? I hate tense sometimes. I have decided this is a symptom of excess time travelling).

A List of Things Tom Will Do In Order To Carpe The Fuck Out Of Some Diem.

1. I went for a run once. My body hated it. My body is not a temple. It is a restless city full of criminals and I’m Batman. Perhaps a run or two may help clean up the city once and for all? After all, after running for a minute or so my voice becomes hoarse and breathy just like the Dark Knight’s throaty growl. WHERE’SMYRUNNERS?!

2. On the exercise front, I used to swim quite a bit and I find it’s the perfect way to wash away the grit and jaywalking guilt after a day in the city. I also feel a lot more comfortable swimming than I do running. However swimming costs money. So my plan will be twofold. I shall run when poor and swim like a rich man. #richardbransonswimseverydaybecauseheisloaded.

3. James Bond. He’s back guys. And while some would argue that spending an extended period of time in front a large screen indoors is not a way to seize the day and so on, I would like to tell them to politely fuck off. There are a smorgasbord of movies washing up on the cinematic shore in the next few weeks and I want to see all of the things. The best part is I can do it without feeling guilty about not doing something else because of the distinct lack of essay requirements.

4. Write that thing I’ve been wanting to write for a long time. A collection of short, unsettling fiction (not quite horror but stuff that just makes you uncomfortable and nervous to shower alone). To really make it weird I’m going to go to nice, happy places and do my writing there to make me feel like a creep. Because there’s nothing better than writing something truly horrible in the middle of a nice cafe and seeing the waitress’ expression when she accidentally glances at your screen and sees the phrase: “He cut out the bitch’s eyes.” Because you’re by yourself in a cafe. Writing this. Wearing a sweater. An ominous sweater.

5. Buy a watermelon. I did this last week. It was the best. I was going to buy a whole one…but don’t have a high enough skill level to attempt cutting it (nor do I own a machete). WATERMELON UP IN THIS.

6. Follow the various Mormons I see wandering about the place back to their nest, I mean hive, I mean…no actually I do mean nest. I see them on the corner of Lonsdale and Russell most days and always in threes and always with suits and badges and I want to know where they’re coming from. It unsettles me that they’ve managed to slip into the city without anybody noticing. I imagine once I arrive back at their nest I will find a large xenomorphic being laying Mormon eggs. That’s how it works right? Right?

7. Learn to cook something that isn’t spaghetti related. It’s not that I’m getting sick of spaghetti (I’m not. There’s no way that’s ever going to happen) it’s just that I do need to broaden my culinary horizons. Also if I understand it correctly it means I have to invest in some cravats.

8. Finally finish playing Slender. I’m kidding. I still stand by my statement of a few posts back: There is no fucking way I am going into that building.

9. Start solving pun related crimes for little old ladies. In a cardigan. I shall call myself Horatio Cardigan.

10. Get better at writing lists instead of starting with gusto and slowly, slowly petering out around item number 5 or 6. Seriously Tom.

So I am aware that this post is a bit of shambles and isn’t really full of anything poignant or important or you know whatever…but I’m struggling to find something to write about now that there are no essays to be done. So be nice. Please. Carp Diem (it’s the fish equivalent of making the most of the day).

Treed.

 

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