This Thing.

It just occurred to me that I had this thing.

This Thing. Like it’s some dusty paged notebook with rusted metal corner tabs that you picked up at some flea market and left to gather memory value in a bottom draw or box somewhere.

Well, it could be, this little corner of the net of mine.

I’m mainly bored. Uni starts up again tomorrow and already I’ve over committed myself to positions at work and outside with internships. It should be a good month before I break down…

In the mean time I’m procrastinating from achieving anything meaningful by trolling the web.. waiting to be entertained. My usual haunts have lost their shiny new appeal. It’s all to familiar. And as we all know – familiar is boring because it’s too close to home. I keep signing onto chat rooms just waiting for someone with half a personality to actually intrigue me and be interested in … I was going to say ‘conversation’ there but I don’t think that’s honestly what I meant, I meant… me.

I want to feel re-discovered. Shiny. Imbrued with meaning, a hidden depth I wasn’t seeing before.

Does this dusty shit around my life mean something to someone ….?