All work and no sleep makes Jack not bother with a title

Jack hadn't slept, hoping class would be canceled. This fruitless optimism begot the beginnings of a very surreal day.

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I noticed that driving when deprived of sleep makes everything brighter. Like nuclear summer bright. It causes one to hear mention of one's mother and sister a lot from people otherwise fasting. Driving insanely, first to get to an already late class and then again to the comfort of a bed, casually dodging crossing pedestrians. Frankly, it's a lot like playing GTA. Minus the hookers.

The Flash in always on time

I get to class late, wearing a shirt with The Flash on it. The irony is missed and I'm grateful. It was Ethics and we were talking about the differences between the Classical and Socioeconomic view to management. The Classical view seemed fascist and myopic in its inability to comprehend social welfare. However, one can operate on a Classical level and still be socially charitable keeping in mind the concept of long-term profit. A man who completely embraces the socioeconomic view will do good for the sake of good. A Classical man, however, will do good too but with the expectations of the consequences somehow reimbursing him. But this brings even the staunchest socialists to the Classical floor because let's face it: nobody does good for the rainbows. Everyone wants something. Whether it's something tangible or even in, such as goodwill (from the said person or the public at large). In this life or the after or even the next.

To conclude, I would like to update everyone with the new poverty barometer: calories. 1200 to be exact. This means that people who can't manage 1200 calories a day are officially poor. This also mean that most of the female population went beneath the poverty line. The males and the whales now rule the world.

Writer's Blah

Dear Reader. "Readers" is too funny for even me.

I haven't written for a long time. I would call it writers' block but I'm not really a writer, I was more like a phone off the hook.
I was lying in bed a moment ago when I swear I could hear a jinn whispering, "pathaann ... pathaaaaan ... open your dukaaan" and I decided to listen to my delusions and write about how I can't write.
I remember how I was telling a friend in the 8th grade that there are these moments when you're talking to a girl on the phone when you're blank and have nothing to say and he told me to talk about exactly that, that awkward moment. The idea seemed brilliant until the girl started thinking I'm semi-retarded and started taking these romantic walks in the narrow corridors of the school with the talk-about-the-awkwardness friend. Awkward.

I was lying, I just made up the jinn. I couldn't sleep. I might have class tomorrow and might not and I'm an optimist.