long day, long week, but i’m happy as long as the weekends are guaranteed to come. there are days when i wish i was young enough to know everything, that i held the power to deduce everything into manageable chunks as i did in the broken heydays of youth. now it’s muddled by the idioms of context, syntax, and the fact that you can argue the world is flat and prove it, too.
i guess that’s why i lost interest in politics, i have washy social morals, and i’m not surprised that i generally have stopped exercising a strong opinion on several debatable issues. what has piqued my interest instead are the butterflies in the stomach, the flutter of images vaguely strange yet familiar, the elecricity of the moment when listening to music. the mystery of light and moon shine, the alteration of perspectives, the escape from the monotony of routine.
the possibility that everyday is christmas, halloween, and valentine’s, all rolled into one.