Once upon a time, staying up after midnight had to be done undercover - bed cover, that is, complete with a torch rapidly being drained of power and squinting in the dim light so that I could continue to read Pinquo by Colin Thiele and pretend I was asleep whenever necessary. After a while, Colin Thiele was replaced with Agatha Christie, who was in turn - sadly - replaced by Dolly and teenage romance novels like Sweet Valley High (or magazines 'borrowed' from my brother's bedroom - a veritable treasure trove of information on boys ). Occasionally, when all in the house were assuredly asleep, I would creep into the lounge room and spend the rest of the night watching MTV and falling in love with various guitarists, then penning awesome (read: terrible) poetry about all my crushes.
Skip ahead a few years and I strangely find myself an insomniac.
That's probably a lie. It's far more likely that I developed a taste for the guilty indulgence of staying up 'way past my bed time' and engaging in pursuits that cause my contemporaries to roll their eyes and 'tsk' at my reasoning behind the choice. I feel nonchalantly defiant towards said tsk-ing. The things I am able to achieve at night, when all is quiet and no one is pestering me to fulfil certain obligations, are incredibly important. With unbroken concentration, I can achieve far more in the hours past midnight than I've ever been able to when my eyes are stinging from being exposed to natural light. My pursuits may be of a leisurely nature, but I most certainly approach them with fervent dedication, and can not rest until all goals have been ticked off the list.
So, on that note, at 2 am I find myself with the compulsion to make the following declaration. (There's every possibility I'll wake up in the morning and smack myself in the head, lamenting the fact that I overslept and thus will not have enough time to log on and delete this entry before having to leave for class... Incidentally, I wonder if I am continually smacking myself in the head for all the dumb things I say and do, the repeated blunt trauma will kill what brain cells I have left and subsequently cause increasingly stupid behaviour. I once heard that it's been scientifically proven impact of that kind does not kill brain cells. I, however, am determined to test the theory to the best of my ability).
Anyway, I simply must announce that I have found the greatest smilie in existence (image code isn't allowed ):
Before clicking on this link, be sure to prepare yourself for impending awesomeness.
My work here is done.
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