Your Humble Narrator

11:10

It's late I'm tired but not I'm bored but not I'm hungry but full.

I seem to be getting physically allergic to monday nights. Monday nights always arrive with a sorethroat. How queer.

I just feel like sitting at the beach right now actually (and I mean this in a completely un-emo way because i am not emo! i am just... like that) to watch the smooth black undulating waves rise and ebb and to dig my toes into sand warmed by the day and to wonder pleasantly what lurks beneath the glassy surface of innocent glinting lights.

Life is so, so, so big.

(I am also probably in such a mood because of the Time Traveller's Wife, which is by far one of the best books I have ever ever ever ever ever ever ever EVER felt for. Niffenegger is one bloody brilliant genius. And this book just me perspective, but when I think about it sometimes it gets so confusing it loops in my head and I have to unravel the knots of tape laboriously to play it again and get stuck. )

So as I was saying, life is just so, so big and I'm wondering why there are just so few who appreciate it.

(I'm not saying I do. I'm not really sure about that yet. Among other things.)

National day weekend: Zixin and I headed for the ~~hills~~ annsianghill after watching the Piano Tuner of Earthquakes, which incidentally is a thePicturehouse art show and is amazingly convolutedly beautiful.

But you'd either love it or hate it.

Thank you Rourou for trying to give us directions while we were lost on Club Street :D!

13082007; 11:17pm