monotony's suffocating stranglehold

i wish i could drop by in town with a few good friends, gratify our deprived taste buds with good food & strut down the streets akin to the walk down the runway by fashion stars

i wish i could revisit m.s again with joy & belle to relive post-pp days with cheap ice cream, m& s & maybe some book hunting

i wish i could spend the remnants of my holiday being a hermit at some rusty corner of a placid cafe, reading my favourite book while sipping some hot chocolate, with a cashmere cardigan daintily draped over my shoulders so that i will be perfectly warm and incandescently happy (& enthralled by the perfection of this gratification)

i wish i could run away: let the physical act of running transcend the metaphorical, figurative meaning of running, that the act of a literal dash could unravel the burden of exams, the burden of things that are getting to heavy to carry, too heavy for my sheer passion of  merely understanding & dissecting in my head - not digesting, not to burn the pages with knowledge scribbled all over carelessly & borne out of exasperation

so tired of this consecutive monotonous existence - which seems like eternity

'eternity bores me, i never wanted it' (plath)