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regrets, m'dear.

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Jun. 15th, 2009 | 05:58 pm
location: narnia
mood: cheerfulcheerful
music: deftones - be quiet and drive (far away)

It is right now that I wish that I had done an arts course; the kind with paints, sculpture, folios and people with incredibly awe-inspiring pants. Perhaps if I had chosen that path then I would now be covered in paint splotches and paper cuts from snuggling my works in bed; the position of an arty student somehow implies in my mind that I would obtain instantaneous permission to get a medusa piercing with accompanying cheek piercings. Why must I consider future career options when I want steel driven into my facial tissue? I must find some sort of arty outlet that I not completely self-driven (not that drawing for myself isn’t rewarding… well, alright, I am down-right lying to your monitor’s face as well as perhaps yours if you are reading this). Considering that this semester I have perhaps the tiniest set of contact hours for university ever in the existence of Monash I must use the time constructively. I believe that I have played the role of a lazy (literary) arts student for a commendable period but now it is time to transform into one of those feisty students that I spy in libraries. Now searching for miniature art courses or classes – anything!

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