Counting Down from Fifty-Nine (59)

If the oceans and seas were like wires and cables ... I don't know. Well, who would, but - starting again. I'm looking around and there's a bit of reorganization in the air. The smell of rubber, black and white, and the metal on the plug points. Well ... if you go up real close to a box in which you've dumped all your cables (or game controllers, like I have), then there is a certain smell that's unique and different from the general mustiness prevalent in stuff that's been packed away for even a short while.

I went to a bookstore this weekend. Found three books - The Annotated Alice, The Idiot and some book by Chekhov. About comedy, I think. Whatever - I was stoked. Found these books that I had been wanting to read for a while (except Chekhov) and there they were magically arranged in front of me. Actually, no, I was looking for the Brothers Karamazov, not the idiot, but that's not the point - I was happy. So I went to the cafe, had a mocha (which wasn't as good as it was supposed to be) and then walked out of the store an hour later cause they were closing, still jubilant. Only to realize at this point - I forgot to buy the damn books. I imagine they remain there on that coffee table to this day ... or not. Probably not. But it's a nice thought that they would remain there waiting for me unless otherwise altered by an external force. Newton, you truly were right.

If I ever come to understand women, I think it will be entirely too late. Not that I had any specific women troubles, but over the past weekend (yes, it truly has been an eventful one), I encountered a situation that I knew would be bad as I went into it. And, in the aftermath, I see I was right. Not that anything bad happened. But it has wrought havoc on my mind, cause in spite of all the logical arguments that there are, I can't make heads or tails of it. BUT ... having said that, the one true argument is "obvious" and I refuse to see it because I want to believe otherwise. Cryptic and confusing enough for you yet?

Woah. Here's an idea. I'll post a story. It's ... yeah - I'll put that up. Why not. I just wrote it. And no one is really going to read it. So yeah, that'll be the next post. Up real soon. Only, you'll probably have read that before this, so this kind of ... epiphany of sorts is wasted in this medium. Too bad.

For the power of gorgonzola.