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Date: January 28th, 2020.

Time of Writing: 9:01 PM.

Weather: Clear, warmish.

Mood: Discontent.

Day Overview: English at 10. Fighting stomach pains throughout. Split into two groups to discuss the essay. Had to be the one to drag my group into discussing the thing. Hated it. Went back to my dorm and worked on Japanese for an hour or so, skimmed some reading for history, went down to my film studies class after eating a shitty lunch. Like two slices of a bbq chicken ranch pizza because it reminded me of the shitty pizza joint near my shitty high school back home. I need a fucking haircut. Took notes while half asleep through film studies class. Watched a pretty fucking awful movie. Then I went to anime club and sat there watching the first episode of a show I'd already seen while having a stupid fucking argument online. Like a really dumb argument. It spiraled way out of control. I can't say shit without people taking it so seriously. The other two episodes of the show were okay, and then my stomach started hurting again, probably from the shitty food I ate for dinner. Maybe the cafe in the campus center is cursed. I'm in my dorm now. I wanna get fucked up but I have a quiz tomorrow morning. I should be studying. Knowing how much of a fucking spineless pissant I am I probably will wind up studying too. Fuck.

On My Mind: Why am I here?

Consumed:

• Likewise by Frances Quinlan: The first solo album by the lead singer and frontwoman of Hop Along is a real treat for the ears. It's got a lot more polish than Hop Along stuff usually does, with more synth elements and intricate production. I feel like Hop Along's strength is in the rawness of their music and recording process but after this I definitely wouldn't mind hearing a Hop Along record produced somewhat close to this. The vocal performances are stunning, as to be expected, and there are some real gems of songwriting on here. Maybe it doesn't flow as much as I'd like, and the songs that are just acoustic guitar don't really land with me, but it's still a very solid effort. Among my favorites of the year so far for sure. 8/10.
• Seconds directed by John Frankenheimer: A sort of interesting premise with great cinematography in the first act that is hampered by shitty writing and the worst ADR I've ever seen and a lead actor that looks like my AP English Language teacher and a corny soundtrack and you can fucking tell, you can just fucking tell that James Wong Howe gave up halfway through this because the cinematographer goes down the fucking can. The grape stomp scene is shot well, the party is plain. I have no idea what the fucking production cycle of this was, and I don't fucking care.

Produced: A few hundred words. Maybe it went over a thousand. Fuck this.

Other Thoughts: I'm in a rut right now. Tune into the show Thursday night/Friday morning. I need to fix that playlist. Fuck.