Let us never speak of this again

This is a morning blog. As opposed to the usual, I'm about to fall asleep at any bleeding second, now it's Morning Me to do the duty. So you can expect a stricter and far more efficient tour of duty in these digital marshes. With the enemy armed with though-blockers perched in every corner, I must tread carefully. It's worse during the day than at night. Now they too are awake and alert and there is much that will not be said. Scary stuff, isn't it? A bit epic really.

1 and a half more days left people. And there are so many things that could go wrong - and that is what worries me. But it's not as if they're vague - just ... I know I shouldn't be scared off my trolley for every little thing that could go all pear shaped, but I dread the consequences of such ... possibilities. Like having to return to whence I came. That disturbs me and fills me with the dread of a soldier, back in medieval times, having to walk in solitude to the cave that houses the fel-dragon of Mordreth-Kline, slayer of a million men.

But that remains for another time, I suppose. Now I should eat, drink and be merry - while I can still do so, that is.

Katamari Damacy. We Love Katamari. Me and My Katamari. I haven't done this in a while, so forgive me. These are three different games, the first on the PS2, the third on the PSP. It's something that Everyone should play. Katamari defines gaming at its best. A medium in which you can accomplish feats and experience moments that are simply not possible through any other of the traditional forms of art. The concept is this - you must roll a ball around levels, picking stuff up. Start off small, you're only large enough to pick up thumb-tacks and chess pieces. Eventually, the ball will become bigger and you'll be able to pick up pens. Batteries. Mice. Through the course of the game, you're picking up buildings, people and cars. The scope of the design is truly phenomenal - it's something that I'm sure even a complete non-gamer could pick up and fall in love with.

The mind hears what it wants to and therein lies the problem. If a sentence was understood exactly as it was spoken ... this is where words fail. The idea should be to communicate a thought. Not to exchange words behind which the thoughts lie dormant like eggs. How does one achieve this communication in all its purity and innocence when the mind that must conjure these verbal passages is clouded and its vision obscured from reality.

Till another day stops and says hello.