January 2011
16 posts
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I dream of Japan.
I have never stepped foot on the archipelago, nor am I one of those anime or Harajuku fashion enthusiasts in love with Japan for its mainstream culture. But for some reason my heart is already there. I don’t even remember when and how this crazy pursuit of Japan started.
Is this my impulsive, adventure-hungry self speaking? Or is this sudden compulsion actually the subtle workings of the...
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Oh my, gotta keep moving.
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I remember reading a book wherein Churchill...
The dog is familiar, but there is no comfort in familiarity. The more you feed it the stronger it gets and the more viscous it becomes. But at the end of the day, it’s just a dog. One you can tame, lockup, or leave outside the house. And Churchill says that when you do, the colors come back.
I try to remember this. The colors can come back. I can make the colors come back.
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The happiness playground.
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In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.
Trying times, trying times.
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Today my mom told me I'm getting fat.
She told me to stop eating, and hid the brownies (which were hazardously accessible to me) from my sight.
There’s nothing like a slap on the face to snap you back to reality. I should be thankful, actually. Don’t worry Mom, you’ll be complaining about my all-too-prominent bones by February. Thanks.
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I’m losing track of the time and hoping it can pause for a while. I don’t want reality to resume just yet.
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