526 as i write this i think its a sunday
i actually had somewhat of a good day? went out with my parents and i ended up getting a book (and heatstroke) i had been looking for for months (in the first circle by solzhenitsyn). it was super cheap and turns out it’s a first edition from 1971, kind of bums me out because apparently a better and more complete version was released in the 2000’s but at least i got the book.
i’ll have to staple some pages because they were falling out.
besides that, i bought a new mattress because my back is reverently fucked and the one i was sleeping on had a rather long life (20 years or more), which makes sense because i never have a good night of sleep. it’s getting to my house tomorrow which also means i’ll have to clean my room, tidy up and all, and gods… my room is a mess.
i finished fleabag in a couple of hours and it was amazing, i do get the hype now, and as i write this i’m watching beau is afraid. it’s kind of hard to multitask but i’m just doing it because i hate being alone with my thoughts, i despise it. if i were to point to a moment in which the feeling of despise grew from uncomfortable to unbearable was because i had finished a re-read of the poppy war and got really, universally, depressed. it’s been messing with my reading.
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