friends we are, friends we aren't

friends, friends.

it's important to have friends. i'm very happy around friends; shouldn't my beau be an even closer friend, thus?

we were friends but somehow lost that connection. i thought i had a wonderful thing: with him around i've eyes for nobody else and i've ears for nobody else. isn't that a wonderful thing to start with?

it's love, isn't it.


love makes fools out of me and you. love makes blind fools out of me and you.

sometimes i wish i were a wolf, for wolves mate for life and if one were to die (of thirst, hunger, whatnot) the other stays single for the rest of the way.

..other times i wish i were a mayfly, meant to be food for a bigger bug or a fifteen-second mate for another mayfly i'd never seen in my entire three-day life. then again, being a mayfly, i wouldn't have much preference, save that the other mayfly's got a woo-woo when i don't.

heh.

maybe mayflies have it better than us, eh? three days!

they've got to know what life's about, given only three days. just like how you'll only know life when you find out you've got cancer.


heh. cancer.

my heart hurts and it takes more effort to breathe than usual.

sorry

i'm sorry, but i don't think i'm matured enough to be with someone like this.

i'm sorry.

are you..?

are you as crazy about me as i am about you, baby?
are you as madly in love with me as i am in love with you?
has anything changed, has anything changed


are you as crazy about me baby as i am about you?

did you cast your heart in frost so love would last longer, darling?
in this microwave age everything's frozen desertland waste

until it thaws, for that moment, in the microwave

would you rather have it hot or would you want it to last a bit longer?

what is it you want, darling?

has anything changed, has anything changed?

deadlines and the city

nope, there ain't no sex no more. just deadlines.

deadlines and the effin' city. NOW i know why i like publishing this much.





..then again it's only been barely a month. hard to say, still. here's hoping things go well, eh?

pretty little dollar-signed world

Beauty can be bought. Affections can be bought. Heck, even love can be bought – because this is a world moved by economics.

You work because you can, because you need the money, because you need to have something to do with all your time. People employ you because you’re valuable to the company, because of what you can do for the company, because what you do can help with the process of money-making. And that’s what it’s all about – money.

No, you are not free. Every day you are bombarded with ideas – ideas of what beauty should be, ideas of what perfection is, ideas of what a lovely sound should be, - not all of it your own. And what is your own?

money. that's what it all has become. what you love may be what another makes use of to make money. and that's all it is, that's all it will be.

the book i'm reading

the book i'm reading is so cynical it makes me smile.

written by a frenchman in the creative industry, the author frederic whatzisname takes you through frenetic tussles with his day-to-day work life. and i ask: what is it that we're working for, for we are all peons, mindless hypnotised beings who recognise products by the amount of time they're aired on tv, the radio and in turn and seen on people as make-up, clothes, bags, whatnot which finally leads to its name being on peoples' minds and mouths.


..yes, that's the stuff i've been fed each time i flip to the next page and funnily enough, like a cow finally understanding that it's being given 'animal-based feed' - i read on, still.

i'm sure anyone being put through the daily workgrind (jas) will love that book. titled /strikethrough[english pound sign]9.99/strikethrough [english pound sign]6.99. by frederic beigbeder.

good thing i got it at $3.