22 ноември, 2013

addicted for life

I am slowly and painfully getting back on track with going to the Uni, getting up when the evening is barely over and coming home when it's evening again. Sleep deprivation suits me well if I don't count the sudden bursts of laughing, the too much talking about stupid things and the inappropriate times when a scene from the book I'm writing or reading hits me and I cant't seem to focus on anything else.
On top of it people find it very convenient to ask me to do things and socialize which I find extremely hard and tend to ignore it, making a mess of my relationships. It sucks when people can't possibly understand that my inspiration mood is way too selfish and somehow manages to keep all my attention to itself for as long as it desires. Plus, I don't really mind. People do drugs and drink alcohol. I need none of those, because writing and reading are just as much intoxicating and addictive.
I'm more myself that way. Reality seems not all that important and I can always escape it in a way that other people can't. It's the one thing that helps me deal with the lack of sleep and the many many important things I have to do the following week.
At least I got my idiot of a boyfriend read a damn book in his life. Not any book, Harry Potter. So we were both reading last night before going to sleep and the silence in the room felt so good. Hopefully, he will be able to understand my addiction soon and stop trying to get me out of it. And I should probably stop making him listen to all my craziness when I've read something epic and I feel the need to do some fangirling. I have no more time and I have to be on the run again.

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