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Often we went down to the beach, me holding her hand and the wind whispering in her ear. She would laugh and the blue of the sea would be that much bluer for it. We’d kick up the sand with our feet and we’d stand still looking to the horizon but not for tomorrow. We made that summer last forever, counting stars instead of days, listening to our hearts beat.
I wish to get lost, to walk down streets I have never seen before. I want to take random buses and see where they will end up at - maybe across town, or just in it or into another one. I want to ask directions of made up places from people on the sidewalks and smile when they say they do not know.
I want to follow butterflies in the morning and firelfies at night.
I want to see things that I never knew existed; hear the birds singing a different tune; let go of myself. I want to travel in circles and end up at where I started. I will need not a single map, not a single plan. I will be careless and throw any caution to the wind. As long as I do not waste my days looking at the same horizon, I will not complain.
This is as far as I know: the world is too big and time is too short.
I know I could have just clicked the little heart in the top corner but this post requires more comment than that. Cha, this is wonderful. Wonderful. You in that dress, and the picture, and the wanderlust. Tonight I will dream dreams of strange streets and a thousand different sunsets. Thank you.
The night I met Topher was a windy night, the kind of night when you just know it’s going to rain, but as usual I did not bring my umbrella and I was only five blocks from the office when it started to pour. And the rain is coming down real hard and I do not fancy walking home soaked to my bones so I duck into an awning. Someone else is there taking shelter and he has this cool attitude about him, leaning against the wall making smoke rings as if he was there because that was exactly where he wanted to be and not at all because of the rain. We stand there in silence for a while, each alone. Suddenly he leans toward me and offers me a cigarette and I am surprised because all this time I have been studiously ignoring him; not because I don’t pay mind to strangers but because he has an intriguing face, a vague handsomeness your eyes are drawn to unless you keep them away with conscious effort. I take the the cigarette and smile thanks and he smiles back and I am taken.
-Memories of Topher
I wake up to the rumbling of my stomach. Brown stains on the ceiling look vaguely like clouds caught between shapes. I imagine that if I stare hard enough they might actually drift across the plaster. Blinking a couple of times, I sit up. The digital clock on the beside table announces the time in bold neon. 11:00 am. Sunlight slashing through the curtains tells me my clock is not wrong. Damn. I had intended to sleep well into the afternoon to avoid having to eat lunch. Walking over to what passes for a kitchen, I check the small fridge. Empty. On the cupboards, a lonely box of oatmeal. Empty. There goes the last of my money. Even the small jar of coins is empty. Determined to put off actually having to work for food I look back to the table beside my bed. At the fish I keep for company. Fish will have to do for today.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
I’ve had this on my iPhone for a long time already but got around to listening to the track only yesterday and since then it’s probably looped a hundred times already. Listening to it never fails to get me to bop my head and walk just a little bit faster. It also makes me want to go to Côte d’Ivoire and party. Now.
Breakfast at high noon
Omelette au poisson
Tired of the many times I have eaten tuna straight from the can (for lack of a kitchen back when I used to live in the dorm), I decided to cook tuna omelette. It is ridiculously easy to make.
Ingredients: 1 can of tuna flakes; 2 eggs; 1 medium tomato, diced; cheese, grated
Beat the egg until appropriately frothy. Add the tuna flakes, the tomato, and the cheese. Cook over low heat in a lightly greased pan until the egg is no longer runny.
Et voilá, breakfast for two!
This is work right now. The whole week I have been in the office more than 12 hours a day. I’m tired, tired, tired. :|
Photo from WWF
The truth about ninja
Apparently, ninjas NEVER wore all black and DO NOT have awesome powers like creating illusions of themselves or transforming into logs. Now, all my pubescent fantasies are crumbling and I feel lost, totally and irrevocably lost, I mean, what is the point of wanting to be a ninja if I don’t get to wear emo robes and use ninjutsu?
The Foreign Correspondent - Alan Furst
Currently reading. I am halfway through and thoroughly enjoying it. It’s been a while since I last had a cloak-and-dagger fix.
Old ladies are adorable
- EXT. My apartment
- Old Lady 1: Look at my plants, aren't they adorable?
- Old Lady 2: *nods in agreement*
- Old Lady 1: You know, my two friends and I love gardening.
- Old Lady 1: But my plants grow better than theirs. You know why?
- Old Lady 1: Because I talk to them. I tell them, I have done my part, now do yours and grow.
- Old Lady 2: *glances at me with a knowing smile*
- Old Lady 1: *gestures at the plants in benediction* Lord, thank you for making my plants grow.
- Old Lady 2: ROTFLMAO
All in your head-land
For later reading.
- Commander Adama: I gave the order. It's my responsibility.
- Captain Apollo: I pulled the trigger. It's mine.
This morning I made myself happy.
Woke up at a quarter to nine, much later than I would like, but I changed into running shorts and shoes and went jogging for half an hour, and when I got back I cooked myself some oatmeal as a prize, and since I cooked it with milk, it was so good I decided to skip the sugar and put off my diabetes for a while.
Tomorrow: get up earlier, jog for a bit longer.
Someday: quit smoking.
This is Fukee. She is not the person in yellow - that is a guy, and he is my roommate. Fukee is our refrigerator, and we hope she sticks around for a long, long time.
