…The Musings of a Strange Guy

Packing up…

Finally, I didn’t have the curry. I’m gonna make it tomorrow, so I’ve kept the rice in the fridge. A little dieting is not going to harm, considering the amount of chocolate that I ingest daily. That sentence makes me sound like a pig. Which I may well be, of course, hehe.

I’ve been ransacking my wardrobe (or whatever it is called) for some clothes. I’m leaving my student accommodation for a week to stay at my aunt’s place. She lives in Manchester. She doesn’t like me to stay on my own here in Leeds, especially now that the New Year is imminent. The problem is of course what to pack and how to pack. I do not want to carry too many things with me but at the same time, New Year holidays are imposing upon me a higher degree of suspicion and wariness.

 My flatmate’s window was broken the other day and his mobile (which he stupidly left on display next to his window) got stolen. Since we are on the ground floor, this makes me even more wary of leaving important and valuable things behind. Thus, this time, I’m taking my laptop along with me. It is, I believe, my most valuable possession.

I’ll have to subject all my clothes now to a very strict and impartial selection process. The problem with me is that I usually like to have as many clothes as possible since you don’t really know where you might be going or what you might be doing.

Next, I’m taking my camera along since my parents have been clamouring for photos of their darling son, who’s so far away in a distant land of mist and fog (but no snow; not yet, anyway). I find this very strange myself since I am someone who just likes to take photos of everything and anything. But ever since I’ve reached the UK, I’ve only taken 3 photos so far. Something must be very, very wrong.

Anyway, I’ve just started to read Interesting Times by Terry Pratchett, one of my favourite authors. If you don’t know him yet, then, I sincerely recommend his fiction to you. Actually, I’ve been reading his books ever since I’d finished my O’Levels (when I was around 16/17) but most of his books were unavailable in my country. The only ones I could obtain were the ones in the British Council Library. It is only now that I am in the UK that I can afford to have my own copies of his books. I am not very good with saving money. Any nice book that catches my eye immediately summons my wallet to come forth. Not a very good reaction, especially if you are a student, currently without a job.

Seamus Heaney’s collection of poems, Opened Ground, is looking at me. It has a life of its own, really, it does. This reminds me that I have to complete my assignment, which incidentally is on this poet.

That’s all for now.

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