your (abridged) friday and (highly incredibly extremely super greatly diluted) melancholy:
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the big picture today is 3 degrees celsius, with fleeting cold-caused headaches and 3-for-2 book offers. the big picture today is a mark of a year that has passed. from something to nothing. from struggle to acceptance. of delusion, of What If, of silence that gnaws at your insides, of fleeting lukewarm sparks of hope. from saving to surrendering. from moments to once-a-month. of I Cannot, of the irony of it all, of the great big contradiction of love and bitterness and pet names and everything else that comes in the shiny distracting alluring package of false tacky promise, of the fact that you have never read this part of the world wide web, ever.
cheers.
okay, i am really really decided this time. creative writing. and photography, somehow, hopefully already as an apprentice. please mr/ms professional. i will learn fast.
the decision of the former has been decided based on the residue of english literature that seeps from me as i write. it is doable, of course, and it is quite fun tearing literature apart to analyze it. but this once over-analytic mind knows the effects of such over-analytic-ness on her, and she really does not want to go back to it. complicates her life too much. let me be a kid.
today i found jon mcgregor's so many ways to begin. i stood in awe for a while, holding the book. a book i've been dying to read since i finished his first and found out about the second. it is without a doubt the first book i am going to buy once i have money. i will never forget the wonderful serendipity of finding jon mcgregor, how i scoured the A-Z Fiction shelves in Books Kinokuniya Singapore, how this book's cover caught my eye, how it was shelved wrongly but that didn't stop me from stumbling upon it.
how are you?
---the big picture today is 3 degrees celsius, with fleeting cold-caused headaches and 3-for-2 book offers. the big picture today is a mark of a year that has passed. from something to nothing. from struggle to acceptance. of delusion, of What If, of silence that gnaws at your insides, of fleeting lukewarm sparks of hope. from saving to surrendering. from moments to once-a-month. of I Cannot, of the irony of it all, of the great big contradiction of love and bitterness and pet names and everything else that comes in the shiny distracting alluring package of false tacky promise, of the fact that you have never read this part of the world wide web, ever.
cheers.
okay, i am really really decided this time. creative writing. and photography, somehow, hopefully already as an apprentice. please mr/ms professional. i will learn fast.
the decision of the former has been decided based on the residue of english literature that seeps from me as i write. it is doable, of course, and it is quite fun tearing literature apart to analyze it. but this once over-analytic mind knows the effects of such over-analytic-ness on her, and she really does not want to go back to it. complicates her life too much. let me be a kid.
today i found jon mcgregor's so many ways to begin. i stood in awe for a while, holding the book. a book i've been dying to read since i finished his first and found out about the second. it is without a doubt the first book i am going to buy once i have money. i will never forget the wonderful serendipity of finding jon mcgregor, how i scoured the A-Z Fiction shelves in Books Kinokuniya Singapore, how this book's cover caught my eye, how it was shelved wrongly but that didn't stop me from stumbling upon it.
how are you?
