Much to do but doing nothing

The last few days have been spent in mindless procrastination, and each night has been spent in front of the laptop (occasionally below the laptop when sitting up straight becomes too much of a hassle) with the hope that the next day would magically embark with the emergence of a me with the basic common sense, and a sense of responsibility to get on with the sorting of a too-frequently- sidetracked academics. If the people considered to be the authoritative figures in my life were reading this, they would quite obviously hold me responsible, which I partly could be.
But I know who is the actual culprit. Facebook. Facebook, the brainchild of a very drunk and pissed off over his ex girlfriend Mark whats-it-berg (courtesy ‘The Social Network’, I could never bring myself up to actually sit and read the statistics of how it’s made the guy and a bunch of other people rich, and how it is a milestone in the development of social networking, and all that jazz), is like the fire that attracts an oblivious, fascinated moth, eventually leading to it’s destruction.

Every day, with each passing minute spent in scrolling down the news feed, coming across occasional intellectual occurrences but mostly the mundane, insignificant developments in people’s lives, a bit of the creative child in me dies. My mother’s unfortunate decision to enroll me a convent resulted in me adding about a couple-a-hundred girlie girls whose gradual stages through puberty have been recorded by through the incessant and now compulsive habit of uploading pictures of themselves, is enough to give (whatever remains) of my sane self a migraine. Facebook has (d)evolved a lot over the last few years since it’s inception, and the current trend of memes had me speaking in the ‘meme’ tongue, every tiny mishap turned into ‘the awkward moment’. People in my college throw in the ‘bitch please’ punchline way too often, adding to it’s steadfast stagnation. The various voices in my head (the sane ones are growing dimmer by the day), eventually called for an intervention, that another day spent od-ing on Facebook would result in complete massacre of whatever memory remains of creative writing/thinking skills.

In conclusion, I’m extremely bored of the predictable monotony of this life (damn, the clock is ticking away, eating up on the exam prep time), and even though I’ve got my Semester exams starting tomorrow I am here, simply because I can’t un-glue myself from and laptop but need to vent at the same time. I am somewhat confident that this blog may not receive the readership of a literary genius, mostly because of the progressively regressive digression factor. And assuming there is someone reading this at this very moment, I’m going to try to refrain from having outbursts over here at least for a while, till the storm (my semester exams) has passed. Maybe I’ll write after two weeks. Maybe not. Sayonara.

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