So it goes (again)

I'm back to writing long, rambling blog entries. Although I don't really write here for anyone other than myself, therefore I don't have to worry about succinctness of expression and clarity of thought, I still like to add a little bit of sharpness to my blogging. I attempt to fashion a sharpness of writing that aids me in other literary endeavours, such as essay and prose writing. Nevertheless, as I have hinted at, I have let this slip of late and decided to let this be. Stream of consciousness for the win, as they barely say.

Family visited here yesterday. As readers know I'm not a massive fan of children, but your own family always seems a bit different. My nephew seems quite attached, yet confused concerning me. I suppose it's because I have red hair, yet he rarely sees me. Therefore I should be part of his 'world' and yet I'm alien. Very confusing for a one year old. He's quite a fun little one anyway, he came into my room yesterday and started dancing to the music I had on. Seeing a one year old attempting to headbang to Converge is always a good thing.

There's some makeshift bookshelves on the landing. Winebottle crates or something, from Cambridge University. It almost seems right that I'm using them to store my existentialist and classics books. They also have the advantage of being tall and deep enough to hold my Nortons. Now anyone studying English Literature shall know the sheer volume of those tomes is enough to challenge many a shelf, but these are able to resist.

There's a little over a fortnight 'til I return to University. Well, 'return', I really mean 'until lectures restart'. There's a guest lecture on tomorrow, something about elements of the occult and esoteric in modern Lit, but whether I'll attend or not is up in the air at this point.

2 weeks, four books to read. Should be quite doable.