She was truly a beautiful girl. I could feel a small polished stone sinking through the darkest waters of my heart. All those deep convoluted channels and passageways, and yet she managed to toss her pebble right down to the bottom of it all.
I dream. Sometimes I think that’s the only right thing to do.
Life is not like water. Things in life don’t necessarily flow over the shortest possible route.
I’ll write to you. A super-long letter, like in an old-fashioned novel.
Her smile steps offstage for a moment, then does an encore, all while I’m dealing with my blushing face.
But why should you be interested in me?”
Good question. I can’t explain it myself right this moment. But maybe – just maybe – if we start getting together and talking, after a while something like Francis Lai’s soundtrack music will start playing in the background, and a whole slew of concrete reasons why I’m interested in you will line up out of nowhere. With luck, it might even snow for us.
If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.
- Sucks I have to clean off my nail polish. Saying a tearful farewell to my Essie/OPI collection.
- Saying hi to clear, naked clean nails. Until Xmas break that is.
- My professor was right ..I’m starting to diagnose everyone while I commute.
- During the Pacquiao fight last night - I literally couldn’t contain myself. I was going through all the biological changes in my head that were happening to Marquez’s swelled up face.
*Kudos to you if you know the book I’m holding.
1Q84 by Haruki Murakami!!