Monday, July 17, 2006
{ 4:02 PM }
A phone call woke me up, the sashaying of the pak cik's ratan broom against the concrete pavement down below kept me awake. I counted till 532 and gave up when i realised it wasn't help me get back to sleep. I stared at the blank ceiling. Tossed a bit, turned a bit. Gave up on trying to sleep and changed my layout instead. Something a little different, the artsy-er side of me nudging for release.
I'm at war with my nostalgic thoughts. I hate them. They make you (me, anyway) miss and I miss things so badly that I just wanna quit 'now' and just hop back in time to how things were. When things really were much simpler and I didn't have to face the fear of growing up and making my coming entrance into the working world.
My mind is like a a treasure chest. So large that you'd need a fork lift to heave 'ho it off the ground. I sometimes scarily think that my mind has a mind of it's own and that I'm constantly at war with myself or maybe it could just be the side effects of insomnia.
I'm visiting the Courts and a firm later. A world that I could possibly be part of in the future. Pray the visit leaves a good impression.
Good morning, world.