perfect day, perfect beings
and it's such a perfect day
you just keep me hangin' on
~lou reed
how do i express the way it's touching me, choking me? the news go on, i'm sitting here on a chair as if the world doesn't spin. they say an idle mind is the breeding ground for something, i can't even remember wot. but i am reading a very good graphic novel now: watchmen by alan moore and dave gibbings. it's filling up my time well, but it'll end soon, and then like a plague of angry locusts, i must once again seek out new crop to devour, to feel like a locust. to feel useful perhaps. i suppose there are other things at the back of my head, things you don't need to know about, things i could tell you about. but not here, not in this vile place of melodramatics and swimming information, doomed to be lost as everyone elses. y'see.. it'd have lost that personal touch, the one thing that keeps me, and us human. physical beings connected by a virtual bridge? more like physical beings blocked by a virtual wall. funny how it doesn't suprise you when people prefer to communicate with each other through sms. we're such shallow indecent people.
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