Ralindir

Still alive. Still arting. Mostly charcoal stuff that's either for school or Doctor Who. Reading a lot lately. Watchmen fanfiction. Dean Koontz. China Mieville. Philosophy, as ever. Finished American Gods the other day. Mr Gaiman continues to hold the keys to the literary quadrants of my heart. His fiancee is doing a wonderful job of infiltrating the music quadrant, though she has a tough battle if there's an attempt to overthrow the 80s. Want typewriter. Want headaches to stop. Want school to disappear. Want a new season of True Blood. Want want want. Have a nice millenium.

I need a new hat. I'll probably start looking in the antique shops around Newcastle on Wednesday. The connections I have with the rest of my collection don't fit quite right with my current state of being. I need something new (to me, at least), and hope that it will serve well as armour against the year to come. This is the final stand, isn't it? The last stand before we're either yanked backwards into more schooling, or we decide to properly educate ourselves in the world, be it following a path you've planned well or hitting the road (/sea/sky) with nothing but a passport and the clothes on your back. Guess which I like best? I've been

It's feeling less and less like I have distinct weeks and weekends. They're flowing in and out of each other. Today is Wednesday, it's half past eleven at the time of writing, and I've already finished all my classes. My week is becoming my time for rest, while the weekend is full of performances and work and apathy. But who am I kidding? The apathy's invading every element of my life at the moment. I hardly know any more whether it's the weather, and my ability to maintain a state of jai ren has disminished and died, leaving me with nothing but a slow, well-heated death in this overly Western and supposedly civilised city. I'm drawing more