Have you ever stopped to wonder about why mimes are still around? If comedy was still meant to be silent would they have invented the television? Would colour TV be superior if black and white was the way to go? I don't know, but I digress, there is a reason to my wondering. There was a charity run at Oxford today, a whole group of students were running in mime outfits. I didn't know any of them, but in among a huge pile of bright colours black and white seems to stand out surprisingly well. I managed to snap a few pictures of the more interesting costumes, might tape them in here later on. Madre was right, I need to get a digital camera. Polaroids might be more fun to use and things, but a digital camera would mean I wouldn't need to keep that ratty shoebox around for my photos. I still haven't got myself an album yet either.
On that note though, I went shopping after I got out of class, it wasn't too interesting until I bumped into Liam. I don't think I've written about him before. He takes the same chemical biology class as I do. He's never been that interesting, just sits with a few other people, no top of the class marks or anything, nothing out of the ordinary. Or he wasn't, but as I was saying, I saw him when I was out shopping. He was walking with a woman dressed up like she'd just stepped out of a secret agent movie. You know the type, stoic expression, Hollywood makeup with the red lips-porcelain skin look. She even had the outfit to match, knee high pencil skirt, black patent kitten heels, blazer that only reaches midway between the hips and the waist over some fancy blouse or another, sunglasses that are almost too big for her face, cigarette, perfectly groomed, right down to the blonde hair that goes just past her shoulders. She looked nice. Let's leave it at that before I go rambling for hours. I had a good while to look, but that part comes later. I would have just assumed he had some kind of fancy business woman mother, but she was too young for that, too old to have been a girlfriend, too old to have been a sister unless his parents are older than I'd thought.
I really need to practice staying on track, don't I, il mia diaro?
They weren't really talking- Well, they weren't talking at all actually, not until I interrupted. I wasn't going to at first, but Liam decided to say hello to me for literally the first time ever. Thinking back I guess he didn't want to be walking wherever they were going. I mean I've never seen eyes beg a person to talk that hard before. So I returned the greeting. That lead on to some rather boring conversation about class, and that in turn to him asking to copy my notes some time with a face like a kicked puppy despite the fact that he'd already taken notes. Being the amazing guy that I am though, I asked if he wanted to grab some coffee and jot them down before he went home- That woman didn't say a word the entire time. The most attention she gave to the conversation ( if you can call it that ) was a nod at my returned hello and a constant stare for the duration of the rest of it. I think she was staring at least. I couldn't exactly see her eyes through those shades.
Liam was a little too fast to agree, but it seemed to solve his problem since the woman just walked off as if she'd never even been there to begin with.
Liam and I ended up sat in some quiet café after he was done with muttering awkward thank yous and I'm sorry's. As expected he didn't actually need my notes, but he didn't seem willing to answer my question of who she was either. Well, I say that, but he did, I just don't think it was entirely honest. He said she was his sister- after a long pause and awkward stumbling over his own words, like he was looking for an excuse. I really couldn't be bothered with pushing him though, so I just sort of nodded and went back to being quiet. A good hour passed like that, he ended up scrolling through his phone, I ended up flipping through a textbook without actually reading it. I have never been so bored as I was for that. When Liam finally decided it was a good time to leave he'd thrown another thank you at me, even paid for my drink, jotted something down on a napkin, gave me a nod and left. He's weird. Turns out that it was his number and a scribbled 'text me if you want'. I guess that's just an obligation to him, after getting coffee and what not. Or because I got him out of the way of that woman. Who knows? I've saved it though, it could come in handy in future. Always good to have a number or ten when you need something, don't you think?
Well, of course you don't, you're just paper.
Buonanotte, il mia diaro.
Luca set his pen down with a slow sigh that danced its way into a yawn. He didn't particularly need to keep his diary, but all the same, he'd found it a good way to keep his head clear. Even the most trivial of thoughts were welcomed by those empty pages after all, even the thoughts he deemed stupid, pointless, or simply lacked any real place in his mind. With a soft thump he'd closed the thick book, sliding it back into place on the small shelf above his desk before standing from his seat to slide out of his sweater in a single smooth motion, only needing a turn on his heel and a single step before he could flop onto his bed in such a small room. Not that he could really complain- after all, he had one of the few rooms that weren't shared for this term.
With another, slightly longer yawn, he'd dragged his quilt over his figure, curling up slightly as he lay on his side, head sinking into his pillows. For once he was actually going to be asleep before midnight, a real rarity since most evenings were filled in with his computer and work that needed to be finished up. Tonight though, he'd found very little interest in his laptop, there were no emails from his mother or siblings back in Italy that needed answering, no new updates to add to his blog which had left him simply posting a few pictures that he'd found to be of interest, and that was that- no more to do. Soon enough, his eyes had slipped to a close, mind doing the same only a few minutes later as he found himself lost to a much needed and dreamless sleep.