everything in
it's right place

finally got sick of using my handphone's mini camera. sneaked a nikon d70 out of the study, fiddled with it for a while. it's quite a delight to be able to see such clear pictures (they look just like, real life!) compared to my crappy phone. maybe i should change phone; one of the newer nokia phones are looking quite nifty. no, i should just get my own camera...

digital slrs are really quite a bit out of the budget, though.

i really love my room at night :) look at the guitars. i really love my guitars too. mmm a little spring cleaning, rearranging the wires is needed though. looks way too messy for my liking.

random: 911 pentagon attack conspiracy?

going swimming with dom tomorrow. maybe i'll call jon along (he has a car!) i'm think i'm going mad, on some sort of exercise high. friday was swimming in camp. saturday was midnight (more like 1am) soccer with the sonnies. today's a short 5km jog. tomorrow's gonna be like another 40-50 laps. unless dom get's bored haha then we'll just sit around and look and chicks (!!! jon said there were gays there?!?). that is if he even manages to wake up.

it must be the endorphins. like stress relief. burn away the troubles, cough them choke them spit them out swallow them down while they wrench you in the guy at the same time.

went for a 5km run. i thought the rought would be more like 8km, but coronation rd west -> haji alias -> sixth ave -> hcjc -> home as i found out isn't far. was more of a jog though. was playing lifehouse's "undone" in my head the whole route (which wasn't really a good thing because my running kept matching the beat. haha)

ran past two seven-elevens (and two petrol stations).

tell me everything you need now, anything at all
and i will be the one who's waiting, every time you fall
when you come undone

And here I sit writing vapid prose, in our internecine world of war and conflict, of matters completely opposite. Basically, the crux is that the avuncular, senile man who once sold ice cream in our neighbourhood no longer comes around. Perhaps it was some higher supernatural power which deracinated the network of amity surrounding the old man. And I thought of his dilapidated ice cream cooler, as a microcosm of my air-conditioned room with it's cold fronts and hail storms. This silly juxtaposition, set out to obfuscate anyone who reads my languid journal (certainly not examplar in it's writing), is simply the narcoleptic product of my immense boredom.

All in all, my amateurish musings is merely a patina of fustian meant to cover my repines for that resplendent girl who lives around that corner.

This makes no sense but I do not care.

dedicated to the army people who wake up so early yet have nothing better to do. so they surf blogs. productive!