The national library can be depressing when I'm there all by myself, a whole pile of books to lug around, with a phone that may or may not vibrate due to my dad's calls. The candle's burning now. Yesterday we had a blackout. I had to miss ten minutes of the last episode of The Undisclosed.


d'you think time
would pass us by


Something's wrong here, hey.


Somehow I'm telling myself that literature isn't my greatest passion anymore.
Maybe along the way, some great gust of wind came along and swept it away.
A winked-out candle which wouldn't last long anyway, but burned bright while it did.


I'm sick of Blogger and I don't love xanga anymore.
And I'm just holding out here aye.


The next time, if I still have a chance, I won't hesitate.


Pardonne-moi, for the lackadaisical depressing posts lately. I haven't really been myself these days, at least I don't think so. I'd always love to hear about how others perceive me, though.


Let the words start rolling!