Posted in Random, Thoughts

Killing Time

According to Harvey McKay, killing time isn’t murder. It’s a suicide. And I, for once, am guilty as accused.

Killing time is one of the things that I often do and turns out to be good at. Because it is far too easy to just get lost in reading endless fanfictions or constantly switching between Line and Whatsapp and Twitter for hours. Or simply by being involved in a never-ending chats.

And even as we speak now, I have wasted more than an hour doing just that. Doing nothing but to religiously taking part in a group chat with few other personal chats in between. And it’s not only relaxing and time wasting but also a stress reliever and I haven’t stop laughing for the better part of an hour so I suppose, it is okay.

Even if I’m not doing anything productive and have been literally wasting my time.

Because it feels good.

 

 

 

À la mort,

Besides, as Haruki Murakami has so eloquently put it, “A friend to kill time is a friend sublime.”

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Author:

An emotionally invested enthusiast of pop culture. Apathetic by design. Aesthetically offensive and eloquently candid. A sentimental heathen.

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