of greys and blues

doesn’t everyone hate the smog? that cloying feeling in the air of sticky residue from the illegal burning over in indonesia? thanks a lot. i can’t even enjoy my bitching sessions at the mamak now even.

without a valve to release the bitchiness, i can feel it up to here already. gone are the days lying down on the grass outside staring at the sky and wondering about all those essential questions of life, like why chicken tastes damn good, what is the actual cup size of pamela anderson truly, and why do wedgies happen? you, know, important questions like that. now when i lie down on the grass, i have to watch out for funky smells and weird stains on the ground. dammit the cat shat here. and to top it off, no stars twinkle back at me, assuring me that yes, someone is up there and even though He’s put me on hold, at least there’s someone answering the phone. Now all i see is a gray mist that stinks of burnt wood and indonesian sweat.

going to class was great this time. i got there in time, had some lunch with a friend and hurried to the class room. i was early for once, i was prepared, and everything was going great. i couldn’t wait to see the look on the lecturer’s face when he sees that i’m THE FIRST to come to class.

did some work on my japanese phrases for a while, and got carried away.

as you can see, it was a full class.

dammit.

where the hell did everyone go?