I've been doing some reading lately in an attempt to expose me to more words and stories and ideas. 2 weeks ago Xuehu and I went to the library and I borrowed four books but only managed to finish 3. I realize that I am capable of reading fantasy books at a much greater pace than other types of books. Maybe it's because I don't need to check the dictionary at least once a page. My vocabulary is beyond mediocre. It's not likely that that is going to change anytime soon too. Blame it on lousy memory. Maybe I should get my brain checked - it seems to be deteriorating. Disintegrating synapses? God I hope not. I mean it.

So far I've read Stardust, some satirical book on religion and a feisty book on gender differences. Books that are being turned into movies are the next on the reading list. Damn I can't remember exactly which ones though. Dear John, the Time Traveller's Wife and what else? Like I said, disintegrating synapses.

Hopefully I can rekindle my interest in reading and that it would serve me well someday. Which reminds me of university applications. It is quite ridiculous to blame my total lack of inspiration on a simple case of writer's block. Maybe there's a deeper problem somewhere. Like I'm just not that interesting a person to write about. There isn't anything that is particularly outstanding, let alone virtuous in me. Or I just don't even know myself well enough. Having an identity crisis on the last year of teenhood is not a laughing matter I think. Everything is so... confusing. That is definitely not a good sign when it comes to university applications. Oh, the Hell. Perhaps that's why I want to read more. The other reason being that I really want to correct the unsustainable deficit in my Federal Reserve of Words.

-and i'll give it all to you, my endless love.