Back from the Dead

I wish I could have a legitimate excuse for not writing any new posts since may. Something like "I was on a coma after I got hit by a school bus and I woke up just a few minutes ago and this is the first thing that I wanted to do from the moment I gained consciousness instead of talking to my mom or any other living person of the real world."

It seems that things are just not that complicated.

See, my life can be a dull blob whenever the universe decides it. During the time of the year when I drag myself to school to go learn some stuff that people say it will "make a difference when I go get a job", I have this routine for every day of each semester which you might not really want to know about. But I don't really care that you don't want to, and I have to write something, so here it is:

Wake up-

Kind of eat something-

Go to school-
 Learn stuff- 

Kind of have fun with friends-
Go home-
 Eat-
Procrastinate-
Procrastinate-
Procrastinate-

Hurry the fuck up to school to contemporary dance classes-
Go back home-
  Do Start homework-
 Procastinate while cursing myself for not doing my homework before-
Eat -
 Take a nap-
Wake up at 4 am to finish the homework-
Sleep a bit more.

Repeat x5

Nope. Those are not song lyrics.
Those are things I do pretty much everyday in average, asuming that during that time I had the fortune to go to school. And that's pretty much what most high school and now university was made of. It is saddening now that I see this right before me.

But OH fucking well.
Please allow me to continue.

For all of you who do not know, I couldn't continue my university studies since last January. See, money is important when you want to learn from a pretty decent school. If you have trouble paying tuition, you are in trouble getting educated. Probably this is even sadder than my school routine.

Anyways, since I had some "forced school vacations" I had just way too much spare time to kill. Yes, I did some pretty awesome things during those 6 months. However, they just weren't THAT great.

By the time every single one of my former classmates was on summer vacations once again, I found myself with a feeling of mediocricy, bitterness, and an itch on the back of my mind telling me that I just didn't took the most advantage of my sucky situation.

You could even picture my inner self crawling depressingly on a gray rug wondering why didn't it come up with something cool and different during my spare time, like finding the solution for world hunger or the cure for lupus.

Yeah, it was that bad.

Nevertheless, something inside told me to suck it the fuck up and enjoy the fact that I could see some of my true old friends again. It was a positiveness spree caused by the effects of summer vacations: there was a four-week summer jazz dance course at school (in case you didn't know I really fucking love dancing since always). Those dear old friends also happen to love dancing classes, so they were going too!

Plus, this blog probably started due to that positiveness spree. So thanks summer vacations for giving those rays of hope even though you are hot as fuck, and even though you make me want to kill myself before melting into the ground.


It was just perfect. I would see them again. We would dance again together. We would get drunk again together and make really fucking stupid stuff!

Nonetheless, I had one little problem: my body took a toll of not being quite active during those "forced vacation" months. My lazy ass made me lose cardio-resistence, flexibility, and other anatomic fancy terms that you need in order to give a proper dance performance.

In other words: my body really, really needed to go to the gym.

What could I do? My sorry ass never really had to make gym excercises before because of my incredibly active teen years full of school chores, dance excercises, and more school chores.
I needed guidance on this quest.

Fortunately, I sort of knew this guy from university that basically "lived" at the gym. He literally spent quantious hours there in order to become a muscle head. Most likely to become a whole muscle with feet. You know, to move around.

I started talking to this guy and told him how important it was for me to be a good dancer again. He decided to help me over one condition: to teach him to dance. It was a deal, and we started on Monday.

Long story short, something snapped those gym days. We were always together. We were always talking one another. We started hanging out. We started to like each other. We sort of kind of fell in love.

He is sort of kind of my boyfriend now.

And he is sort of kind of the reason for me living my life instead of writing it down here. Yeah, he is the one to blame.

PLOT TWIST, PEOPLE! I didn't even really know I would end up talking all puppy love and stuff. Right now I'm smiling because five minutes ago I didn't even think or expect to write this down and show it to you. But now I am. And it is weird.

Long story short, once again, this writer came back from the dead. This writer won't leave again. I guess.