Think not what you want. Think what your roommate wants.
-Jiong's new mantra

Scribble is too addicting.

For the last few minutes, I have been thinking of what...who...how....wants. Suddenly, I am hesitating calling Alston up to dinner. I have bothered him three times in a row. I have e-mailed him three times. I have seen him in person and was the one who initiated the meeting. Yet, I have never gotten a response.
I must be a scary person.
Last week, I decided to simply appear in front of his housing residence and call from my friend's cellphone. He wasn't even awake. Sheeesh. He had missed Friday discussion three times in a row. That number has nothing to do with me! So as a result of that, I decided to call him at 10:40 in the morning. However, I got nothing. Just an answering machine. It makes me wonder...too much.
The roommate has been playing something on his computer. The thunder is not filtered through the walls. Unfortunately, my bed is right next to the wall separating his room from mine. Dorm life. :(
Alston owes me. He told my precious blue ethernet cable that was decorating my bedpost. Now the bedpost feels very lonely. It doesn't even have a mushroom to accompany it. Yes, Alston. He moved the mushroom away from the soutside of my bed to the northeast side.
Maybe I should drag him to Lafayette one of these days. An educational adventure.
Midterms. That's probably why. On my own, I cannot study. My short attention span prevents me from staring at printed words for more than an hour at a time.

Nadie stays on the campus over the weekend. That is...my friends go home on the weekends or lock themselves up in the room. Academia prevails in this group.

I am hungry. My animal instinct is calling, but I am choosing not to satisfy it. Memories of the Chinese chicken caesar salad hurt me.

What do I want?

I want to hide.