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The fossilization of memory. Sounds too scientific, too pedagogic. Very much like the notes I used to write in Zoology, only in a sentimental context. Note that this blog is a hole in my failing consciousness. Should you leave this blog wondering about things, e-mail me at utakgago [at] gmail [dot] com for questions, job offers, and for-the-lack-of-a-breather e-mails. Subscribe via RSS.

Naturally

A life without alarm clocks is such a liberating feeling, without any sense of time or any sense of urgency. I rarely wake myself up with alarm clocks–heck, I rarely set alarm clocks. They’re ineffective for me. They pester my mornings. They usually take the blame for heated arguments and morning situations worth the facepalm; a lame excuse for people to divert the blame from themselves.

Well, I make my schedules (the perks of being a college student) and I always make sure I won’t wake up earlier than 9AM–which is good since I allow my body to wake itself up when it wants to, and not just because some Math professor fucking requires you to.

I’m ten percent tipsy from a Red Horse I downed a while ago with two other friends over tapsilog. I have a 10AM class and I shouldn’t skip that. But for the sake of daring my body clock, or myself, or my sense of urgency, I will not set my alarm clock (well, this goes without saying, but that for the sake of blogging I’m telling you this).

What time will I wake up? Go fuck yourself. I will sleep and think of endless evenings, of poolside conversations and spine-chilling post-rock songs. I will sleep without any other worry in mind.

January 12, 2010 at 3:21 am, filed under Slang and random. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

Timeline

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