Sunday, February 11, 2007
one of the worst moods on a sunday. is to be immensely bored, AND fully aware still that a daunting workload awaits your recognition.
to top it all off, there's no one to share grouses with, and you got to resort to your blog.
it almost feels illegal to cheat holidays off study-weary students.
little factions of dreams are weaved into history, and trusted to be so after some years. its all been said too often, sometimes. life's a dream.
i'll die happy if i could just live one week right beside the sea. imagine waking up to crying seagulls, and feeling your feet sink slightly into pearly-white sand as you run into the welcoming frothy blue waters for your morning bath. let me replay that again and again.
to top it all off, there's no one to share grouses with, and you got to resort to your blog.
it almost feels illegal to cheat holidays off study-weary students.
little factions of dreams are weaved into history, and trusted to be so after some years. its all been said too often, sometimes. life's a dream.
i'll die happy if i could just live one week right beside the sea. imagine waking up to crying seagulls, and feeling your feet sink slightly into pearly-white sand as you run into the welcoming frothy blue waters for your morning bath. let me replay that again and again.
can you hear the soft swoosh of the butterflies' wings. 4:31 PM.
