I have missed an entire year of blogging. Within the last two years it seems that I’ve dropped so many of my long term habits that I used to feel were part of my identity.

I’ve completely stopped downloading music. Not because I give a shit about downloading being a crime, torrenting is one of the best things thats happened to me. But, Spotify. I used to obsess over a song I’d catch on MTV, download it, memorise the lyrics, digest it so slowly that it’d take weeks to clear my system so I can obsess over the next song. If I really really liked it, I’ll look up the guitar chords and record myself singing and playing the song lol. However, since I created a Spotify account its become redundant to download songs. I no longer feel as emotionally charged over a new song the way I used to either.

I havent felt compelled to blog in the last year as well. My desire to express myself has found smaller outlets in the ways I like and comment on things on fb and instagram. It kinda requires less emotions and commitment. I was always antisocial kinda in a bad way but now I can stare at my phone with zero regard to the people around me and its considered completely normal behaviour.

I dont believe these trends are due to the fact that my free time has reduced a little. In fact, I think the cumulated time I used to take for these ‘childhood’ habits would be far less than the constant ‘plug-in’-ed time I spend on these various new fangled platforms. They’re certainly less enjoyable, but they require a short amount of time per interval. I fb in the toilet now, like all the time, even if its for 30 seconds. I used to read newspapers and comics in the toilet! Now I watch cat videos oh god. Like newspapers and comics, blogging too requires a substantial amount of completely alone time. Its hard to come by, cos I havent been making time for it. And yet I waste the alone time that I do have on social media. And I’m not even social online! I’m as antisocial as I’ve always been, but now with technology I can people watch without watching people.

I’ve also become less sincere about cards and gifts. I used to take great care and prepare them in advance. Now I’m so terribly last minute about it I can feel the insincerity when I pass the gift and know I could have done better for this person I supposedly care so much about.

When it comes to studying, I’ve certainly become more efficient at getting my grades. I do what I need to do to screen through a ton of readings and understand enough to answer questions for class participation and pray that its enough to tide me over for exams. With every passing semester, I seem to spend less and less time on my readings its very bad. It as if I worry so much about not getting to do everything, I end up doing everything half heartedly. I wait for sweet relief at the end of exams then when it arrives I feel nothing cos I hadn’t worked hard enough for it to mean anything.

I used to do theatre in school. Theatre’s the kind of work that requires your entire mind body and soul. Now I veer towards work thats composed of small tasks and projects. Again, they’re far less enjoyable. But they take up less time per interval. Why though. Why am I trying so hard to avoid being devoted.

So maybe its the glasses of red wine at 1am talking. Or the disturbing movie Law abiding citizen I just watched.  Or that I just changed my school account’s password to name of the wine bottle we used tonight. Or the attacks in Brussels yesterday morning and the extra security at my doorstep. Or that a great friend of mine just got engaged. Or the fact that I’m feeling a tad homesick here in Paris. I’ve been here for 2 months now and every time I tell myself this is the best time to do this, this is the best time to do that, once this is over, I’m gonna finish school and be a working adult and the rest will be history. I’m gonna work in healthcare. I’m gonna settle down and have a house and birth some offspring. All this pressure to make the most out of this precious time adds a slight tinge of unhealthy expectations to my experiences here. Exchange in Paris has been all fun and stuff. But I certainly miss my privacy, my passion and my full ass.



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