Sunday, November 02, 2003

I'm currently writing and editing a few last-minute articles for the school newspaper while listening to Oscar Peterson Trio's "The Gentle Rain". My parents are downstairs watching a dubbed Korean soap opera, while I am upstairs organising my time between wondering what the purpose of my life is and how Kill Bill is a great fuckin' movie.

We both are lost and alone in this world
Walk with me in the gentle rain ...

My room's a massive mess. No, a tornado did not just rip through my living quarters nor did a flock of sheep decide to fornicate in every crevice. I just happen to be a big reader and papers are naturally attracted to my carpeted floor.

Don't be afraid; I've a hand for your hand
And I will be your love for awhile ...

It's hard to be grateful for the things you have. Actually, it's quite easy for me to be grateful. But to act grateful. That's a different story. I'm looking around my room, and I realise, my worldy possessions exist only to feed my teenage arrogance. If modesty drains away ego, then these objects remain only to taunt me of their insignificance. And if they are indeed insignificant, why do I waste my time yearning for those Bruno Frisoni boots I saw in Milan? My Dior top is in the back of my closet, wasting away beside the T-shirt I bought second-hand at a flea market.
I feel your tears as they fall on my cheek,
They are warm like the gentle rain ...

I hate the Teletubbies. A global conglomerate on the same platform as Starbucks ... and Pam Anderson. Although, I do enjoy watching ol' barmcake bust out of her glitter outfits on the tele. What a hoot 'n hoser. She's a human life-preserver!

Now listening to the fabulously moody Laura. Man, Oscar Peterson must be one of my favourite jazz pianists of all time. Jelly Roll Morton's got nothing on this guy. He probably does, but he's dead.

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