Out of your system

It's 1am, and I'm staring down my FYP, willing it to take the next step in its evolution.

Finally produced the 1st draft for my first story for the competition, but I'm rather unhappy with it. I let the characterization get derailed along the way. Its so easy for emotions to cloud one's view of what is interesting and impacting to another human being.

I feel myself regaining my sense of linguistic object recognition. Oooh. Linguistic object recognition. Command of vocabulary is slowly returning as well. Rejuvenating. Reviving. Restoring. Words resonate with each other and becomes easier to recall them the more they are used. Recall. Recollect.

Got a couple more bright ideas for this season. But ideas remain ideas until they are inked. Glad I have a few less f***ing friends and a lot more spare time on my hands. There's always a bright side to everything, I guess.

I really can't believe how much I love and hate this existence at the same time. It's confusing and bipolar and bi-something. "A man goes far to find out what he is."... A man goes far indeed. I know what I can love doing in the future, but I still have no idea what kind of job I can live with, or how I'm going to get it. My social skills are still shot to hell, though I guess I'm not entirely unhappy about that. Besides, I guess I can compensate with the smooth complexion and gentlemanly manner God gave me, at least till I figure out how to be effective in conversation again.

And just as importantly as the problems above, I don't know how I'm going to effectively court/jio the woman of my dreams. It's sinking in that she might like me to command a salary with some manhood-affirming number of 0's behind it, and that my pretty boy charm and incessant ironic chatter might not be enough to seal the deal. Need/want money, and a few of the more important things that tend to come along with money.

Argh. Why don't they tell us these things in secondary school.