i was just about to fall asleep when i suddenly remembered something that happened in class today and felt compelled to note it down.
it was the first time i attended my studies in popular culture class and i was sitting near the back of the room when i overheard this girl’s strangely loud, piercing voice explain that the only reason she used highlighters was because she’d fall asleep reading if she didn’t.
she kept saying things like “yeah, so i use the brightest colours because it’s like they scream at me from the page and then i’m totally awake!!” as if this were the most interesting, thought-provoking thing in the world.
this went on for a good couple of minutes and everyone around her kept laughing and telling her how weird and how quirky she was.
i don’t really know why, but for some reason i felt like this whole conversation was the worst thing ever.
i was thankful though, because it reminded me i should probably get at least one highlighter at some point this semester.
the ink might not scream at me from the page in quite the same way, but highlighters are actually pretty helpful.
(note: if you think you’re the girl i’m talking about, or you’re maybe friends with the girl i’m talking about, please don’t take offense to me thinking your lives are boring. i think lots of things are boring. i’m sure my life seems just as boring in little snippets like that.)
on another note, here’s a passage from the book i’m reading:
“There was something touching about the fact that Murray was dressed almost totally in corduroy. I had the feeling that since the age of eleven in his crowded plot of concrete he’d associated this sturdy fabric with higher learning in some impossibly distant and tree-shaded place.”
i just thought that was funny and true. corduroy is the fabric of learned men (and women).
interestingly enough, i don’t own a single article of corduroy clothing.
and this has been more late night thoughts with obed cundangan.
‘til next time.



