This is a midnight snack. Well no, it's 01:48 a.m., to be precise, but very-early-morning-snack doesn't sound even half as dangerous and a tad more ridiculous than the common midnight snack. You probably know what I'm talking about. If someone is ready to munch a huge bun with too much butter and a double layer of cheese just for the sake of it at this time of the night, something's really wrong. Let us now count. Each piece of this delicate cheese is 71 kcal. In toto, there's three of them. The bun might be...about 90 kcal. Let's assume the butter is about 70 kcal. Altogether it's 373 kcal. This is not a snack, this is a proper meal and, considering that I'm quite eager to finally get really thin, suicide. A bad, bad combination, my views on aesthetics and the black hole in my stomach... I guess I shouldn't have eaten that. There are many things I guess I shouldn't have done, or at least reason tells me so. Many things that shouldn't have happened. As I think. One day, the horizon seems to brighten up, the other day, rain blurs all the colours. I'm not quite sure how I am going to manage all the stuff that has to be done by october, when the next semester starts. On the one hand, I'm up to a lot of travelling, which is great; on the other hand there's two term papers and this disgusting uncertainty about the future- how's everything going to be, will I get where I want to end up, will I finally walk in the right direction in terms of profession, and have some proof for it..? I like to philosophise about things like these whilst chewing on a nice cheese bun. When you read this, the two fellows on the picture will have been gone for good in my tummy, yummy yummy... Oh, the world is mad. [...] I just had a lovely idea of an image: a carousel turning round and round in my mind, a nice merry-go-round with the problems that spoil my existence riding little jolly horses and waving merrily. I'm waving back. It makes me feel a bit dizzy. Lately, I said to someone that, if I can't tidy up my life, I can at least tidy up my room. Guess what- it's still a mess, no idea where to start even. [...] I've had a song on replay for the entire last week. How is it that I'm not sick and tired of it? No idea, I think it reminds me of someone. But that's a different story.
Why am I actually writing this utter shit? Because this is my late night tale. Now tell me yours.