2008-04-22
?
Tired. I keep feeling as though I've forgotten something, but I can't seem to put my finger on just what.
Conversation, conversation. We're getting snippier - or is it just me?
I quite dislike the ring of the telephone. It's a little too disarming - too metallic, too accusing. One-way conversations have made me recoil; talking gets a little harder because I never know if they hear what I say. It's too noisy but where are the words?
I want to remember events like Outward Bounds and Christmas Island but they are so far away now. Month after month passes and they lose weight and I know they will bore because these are memories - the novelty lasts till the mellowness sets in and the bittersweetness already came with the photographs and the silence.
This irks me. I was banking on the comfort trip to Kinokuniya with Greg today to leave me quite satisfied, but I'm stuck with slightly mediocre Singaporean literature and a bag full of doubts.
The heart is too full. Maybe tonight it will slip into the subconscious and puncture itself, quietly; letting the dark blood out like poison and, come morning, will reattach itself calmly into the chest.
inquisite at 9:38 p.m.