There's nothing here but flesh and bone

Suck it up. And so shall I.

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 14:20:47 GMT

Sometimes, it's actually amusing to watch, how people lose any interest in you once they realize your own interest in them is nothing but friendly.

Then again

Sat, 23 May 2009 17:12:30 GMT

Sometimes, a man should listen to his pants.

Mine are grey, and have "The Champion" written on them.

I am a ragman.

Fri, 22 May 2009 14:13:53 GMT

I grew up among old things. Saved things. I adopted the mentality of "maybe there will be a use for that later". The fascination with "what kind of things could you tell me, of days gone by, if only you could speak". But it is not the fascination of an academic, or even of an antiques dealer, but of one who knows no life but the past. Who has no possessions but used ones, who wears even the brand new as if it was hand-me-downs. One who cannot let anything go, even if it hurts him, and who cannot let anything new in, because his selective sight cannot see it, because the new is just not for him, and even if he adopts it, it will immediately become as good as old.

VI - The Lovers

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 15:24:33 GMT

There are times, when the big drama of choice subsides. The road ahead is clear. And one feels... empty and disappointed, even though he is by no means a lover of tiring drama. Perhaps it is the disappointment of taking a step back, and realizing you've been spending energy on fighting windmills. You've been having a nightmare and thinking the sheets are out to strangle you, so you struggled, getting yourself more and more tangled. That's all.

But the road is clear. You are free. You even have the choice of not choosing, of keeping up that drifting down the stream that you usually do. Just hang on and stay afloat, let the waters choose instead.

Sat, 18 Apr 2009 14:44:45 GMT

I'm in need of some fresh air, so... escaped here.