birday

week

October 6, 2004.

Ariv was born.

Oct 11, 2021.

Ariv is 17.

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I had a Linear Algebra test on my birthday.

After being sick for a week, that hurt.

It put me in something of a yucky mental state for a little bit.

It put me at 2x speed, but I was able to slow myself down to 1x, courtesy of the power of applying what I learned in last month’s relearning.

I thought it would be easy to catch up with school work… I was right and wrong.

Motivation dictates everything, and as createable it is, it also has a nasty habit of being inconsistent.

This was one of those times.

And fair enough, I was still recovering from nine days of doing nothing.

I made my way through it, and even had a party to celebrate.

And wow was that amazing.

The point of it was to spend time in the place I enjoyed spending time in the most (Coyote Hills) with the people I enjoy being around with the most (friends).

And it was a well-deserved bit of time off.

I played soccer, ate Sala Thai, watched my friend do an interpretive dance to this, and went on a walk at 11:00 PM.

The day after, I was rightfully delirious.

I watched like 3 hours of Squid Game, but let’s pretend that didn’t happen.

And re-learnt a very noice lesson.

When your family goes out, you should too, because you’re gonna spend all the time you saved thinking about how much fun they’d be having and about how annoying life is that it made you stuck in the house.

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A lot of confusion, a lot of victory, not much mystery.

It was cool, it was fun, even though it’s done.

Magical, mystical, a tad elliptical.

Twas’ a party, like a dream.

That’s how the week was, Chhota Bheem.

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I like to think I’m pretty liturgically cool when it comes to writing.

Speaking of good writing, here’s the song of the week.

I make up random words, random grammatically incorrect things because I think they sound cool, and laugh at my own “haha how funny is Ariv” jokes.

All of those literary organs were donated to Stanford this week.

Don’t come at me.