Posters on my wall

I have a few things stuck on my wall. Some are posters from magazines and some are photos. They date back to 2009.

The memories behind them are timeless, but the photos are getting outdated. The holidays are coming to an end and I still haven't fixed my wall like I said I would. I need to re-jazz it up. Did I mention that I also have a periodic, solubility and valency table stuck on my wall? I'm shameless enough to admit that. So it's safe to say my wall has been appearing mundane for a while now.

I dreamt of my wall last night (in lieu of better things or people to dream of). I had a small pile of new posters I could have put up. It was a fresh pile that made me smile when I looked at it. They had more contemporary meanings. There would've been room on my wall if I just moved the old posters.. but I kept telling myself there was no room. So I left the new posters untouched, and my old posters unmoved. Naturally, my old posters were still on the wall when I woke up.

I just wanted to write about that because I'm frustrated at my indolence. Not just with poster-arranging. And because I've been staring at walls a lot recently. Speaking of which, I should analyse Ode on Indolence after To Autumn. Shrugging back on that familiar study attitude that's caused me much affliction. Yayerz

My sister just came in to borrow my bobby pins. Bobby pins are tokens in my household. Tokens to well-groomed-ness.They're hard to find and when you do have some, you hold them tight and keep an eye on them. I told her "you better give them back straight after using them, I need them more than you do cos I have shorter hair." She said "well, I've got layered hair" and zipped out of the room. I was gonna yell back "it's your fault for getting a mullet" but it was more of a whisper. To myself. But even I could barely hear myself. I hate laryngitis....