Golly.

I'm in a rather dreary disposition and music happens to be a potent remedy for the blues thus one of Debussy's most formidable pieces Claire de lune happens to be on repeat now for several days. Okay, so what do I know about classical music really? I'm not going to pretend that I do. I'm aware that I can't play but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of enjoying it. Oh, I'm so bitter right now and I'm bloody broke. No no, the latter isn't the reason why I'm bitter I just happen to be bitter and broke at the same time. Golly. How fortuitous. I shall congratulate myself by letting myself dwell and wallow in more rancor and self pity. Retail theraphy is definitely out of the question.

So what now? My more sensible alter ego has been cajoling the part of me that's so fed up now to just persevere. I need to leave. I'm so weary of everything now. All this menial endlessness has jaded me long enough. I can't wait to be away. My unconfined fantasies take me to places I really want to go and be at. To the streets of New York. Having Papaya King hot dogs, getting myself lost among shelves and shelves of books in the state library, people watching in Central Park, suddenly I'm in a sunflower field in Arles and having macarons at the Cafe de la Paix stuttering in broken french for a fresh croissant and a cup of french coffee then I'm all the way in New Orleans lost in the crowd of the Jazz fest with a beignet in hand and all at once I can only see rows and rows of cherry blossom trees with a bento right next to me. I think I'm expecting too much. I'm delusional with high expectations and impossible dreams now maybe that's why I can never be content. Ah. Life. This unfathomable gift from God.

I'll just shut up now and hit the sack. Dear Insomnia, if you're reading this please kindly plague someone else tonight will ya?Like a security guard or an owl ok? Someone who really needs you. Thanks.