pull out his eyes

ah, how dissatisfied I am.

i’m currently reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man:

pull out his eyes,
apologise,
apologise,
pull out his eyes.

apologise,
pull out his eyes,
pull out his eyes,
apologise.

i’m only on page 25 and there are already a dozen things i’ve quoten. but i’m not sure I like it. I was supposed to read it for a modernist literature class back in my English major days but managed to pass without.

worred about Uni. so much to do, assignments, and harder ones than i’ve ever had before! two i’m especially worried about.. but I just can’t bring myself to do them. O, mon Dieu, quel est le probleme avec moi? I honestly have a pathological disorder in regards to deadlines. the minute something has a deadline I can’t even begin it until the day before it’s due.