Wax on, wax off.

In Queenstown now, and true to the generation X stereotype, my friend and I are sitting on separate laptops at the dining table, facebooking and looking up biographies of our favourite celebrities. Or rather, Alan Rickman, the sexy beast ;)

I am disappointed in myself at not having more preparation done on the advertising for my Masquerade Ball. Had a lot to deal with in the last week and so did not have time to open the bank account needed to fell the other dominos in the line.

I have just been complimented on my poetic writing - which is not strongly present in this entry of course, but still, I feel jubilant at the receiving of this praise. I am rather passionate about writing, and while I am aware not everyone had the same taste in literary styles, one thing that triggered my spiral into depression towards my last year of schooling and resulting in my failure of the year - was some rather cruel words and degrading of an assignment that I was rather proud of by my English teacher. Though it was once burned into my brain I can now not even remember her comments, I believe it was something along the lines of it not being academic enough. Guess I was always destined for fiction writing as opposed to academic scriptures.

I have been warned against taking philosophy as a university class as it may be 'frustrating' due to the inability to have an orginal thought. I now realise this may have been a compliment of sorts - in the sense that my stalwart attitude and insightful mind may cause me to feel repressed by my lecturers when they tell me my writings on the subject are not referenced enough, despite how impressive their content may be. However, I have concluded that I am an amatuer philosopher in the most basic sense and would be happy to study the great ideas and names behind them.