Apart from the most depressing days, when I just want to curl up in my bed grab a cuppa coffee and a book from my shelf, I can’t seem to find how I want to enjoy the good days. Good days have so much potential and they scream out to me so often, “why thou wasteth me??” and all I have have in my stock of replies is a sad sigh signalling towards how I have no intention of making use of the day. I don’t go to exhibitions, art galleries, dramas, movies, having fun with friends and that somehow does things to you. I am murdering myself with solitude and even now as I write it, I have no intention of going out and enjoying myself tomorrow. I am pretty sure I am going to spend my entire day sleeping when I don’t even enough time to study as the exams are approaching by the speed of light years. Now as I write on, I kind of feel pointless writing all of this. But meh. I just write on.