Shall Owe Words

There’s always more to take out. More rubbish to ‘dispose of’, more pieces of old friends, more leftovers from relationships, more junk collector’s junk. I thought that was what moving house was for, but now, after moving 8 times in just over 2 years, I think I’m desensitized to anything that moving house can do to me. Or maybe I’m just saturated.

Anyway, I’m attempting to study. It’s really hard! Indescribably hard, actually, now that Facebook Chat has arrived. I jump on, intending to be on there for, oh, 10 minutes or so… and end up wasting an hour. An hour! Memories of epic MSN conversations in those deathly high school years come to mind… of course, 9 hours of chatting is a little different than 45 minutes or so of chat-specific Facebook distractions, but it’s still a waste of time. Or something like that.

Elliott Smith sang, as I was writing that, just then, this second, this moment:

“It’s a waste of time
I put it behind once and for all
And let the hype decline
If the problem wasn’t mine…” [from Go By]

Talk about a distraction. My whole train of thought has derailed itself… thanks, Elliott. I should be used to the Elliott Smith distraction, my housemate is, well, a little obsessed with the lovely chap. This is a rather healthy obsession (is there any other type?) and seems to be in a sort of stasis, not growing, not shrinking… in use every day, but not every moment.

So, anyway. As you can probably tell from the title of this entry, we emptied out the house last night - that is, we moved the TV downstairs, along with one of the couches - in a flurry of cleansing. However, as you may also be able to tell, we haven’t emptied out ourselves… Duncan is still the same Elliott Smith lover, I’m still the same uber-procrastinater, and Peter is, well, just Peter. Therefore, it seems that we have discovered the answer to that old ‘Nature vs. Nurture’ debate… our physical surroundings have changed, yet we have not.

How deep.