- All memories are traces of tears -

A week characterised by frenetic activity is due to come to an end over the next 2 days - and yet there's no letting up, with more ball-chasing at Berrylands Saturday, where hard knocks and flying tackles are expected to come in from all angles. So then I'll be knackered and badly beaten up, and as every knackered-and-badly-beaten-up individual in his right mind would do, I'll be playing again Sunday. Perfectly normal behaviour.

The week began with the cardinal sin of class-skipping being committed in favour of dinner. Heck, 'twas but Spanish, and yo no entiendo mucho anyway. The arrival of Wednesday brought me Closer to Natalie Portman and Julia Roberts, before an expedition to Four Seasons of Bayswater saw my wallet and 13 quid being separated -- not particularly reasonable (a shared sentiment), but the pain was quickly relieved with a trip to a friend's place for some mega asshole dai dee.

2 days on and the heavy spending was perpetuated with a 40 quid splurge on clothes, my first purchase in the pursuit of better sartorial sense since my arrival in London. H&M's sales went up by a massive 0.000000001% because of my custom. I oughnt to get a loyalty card or something.
Post-shopping entertainment came in the form of 2046 -- a flick not that unlike Closer in theme, really. A lot of beautiful people, a lot of good music, a lot of screwed up relationships and a fair bit of not understanding what was going on, particularly in the former. Moral of both stories: The ones you like don't like you and the ones who like you you don't like and this whole game is stupid and messed up and we're all going to suffer but not die because that would mean it'd all end.
So 2 intense movies in 3 days to make up for the lack of intensive studying. Fair exchange in my opinion.