I was clearing out my sms inbox on the bus when I realised the number of hit-and-run smses I have. "Hit-and-run" smses, (you can say you saw it here first, but I wonder if any other morbid person has stumbled upon the idea already) are those that have some goodnight/friendship message or a not-very-funny joke mass mailed by people. Sometimes these come from people you know, sometimes from others whom you haven't heard from in years. So they hit you with the smses, and they wait for your reply. And when you don't, you'll never hear from those you never hear from until a few years after when they send you another hit-and-run sms again. I suppose it isn't a very good analogy, or rather, my brain is stretching the very tenous connection between the two. For one, hit-and-run drivers never wait to see if the victim is dead or alive (while sms-ers do wait for your response? well, maybe they don't as much wait as leave their phone on...) I did say the link was tenuous!
This is the by-product of locking myself up in a room with nothing but my laptop and a bottle of water and a pile of notes/books (4 hour sessions for 3 days already..) in an attempt to finish my term papers. I've finished two out of four, and all that has achieved is to make me a little bit mad, and helped me discover the inner prisoner in mye. I realised that being in enclosed in small spaces with high ceilings is really therapeutic. You know that even if you were to explode, the highest your brain will reach is the ceiling, and you won't...never mind.
On the bus, the man beside you pours lavender oil on his hands.
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