When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Thursday, October 23, 2003
Yay! A friend saved the day! I almost thought my faithful blogsite forsook me. Almost. For twenty-four hours I was totally disconnected in more than one sense of the word. Disconnected from my blogspace. Disconnected (read: to become detached or withdrawn) into dark moods. Comprehension eluded me. I couldn't understand why is it that it's just ME who can't access MY OWN blogsite. Everyone else could, but not ME.
Ah wells. I'm an imbecilic computer retard.
Added the code for a "comments" option to Siren's Song. Muahaha. I actually set up another account with www.blurty.com after taking enough from this tantrum-throwing and attitude-showing site. Maybe, just maybe, I'll dump my deepest darkest thoughts there. Posts I don't want anyone to set eyes on. Words you wish you'll never read.
I dreamt a dream last night.
Deep shit was taking over the world. You heard me right - deep shit. Black gooey steaming pools of defecation threatened to submerge the world, covering every surface, and creeping into every nook and crevice. Spreading, like hot melted chocolate. Thick. Viscous. Sticky. Very sticky.
Heaps of people were stuck waist-deep in deep shit. One of them, a lady if my memory hasn't failed me, was actually in her bathing suit and snorkelling gear. Stuck. Very stuck. Yet she persevered to paddle her way out of that quagmire. Others were running away from deep shit. Fear was in the air. One could smell it. Maybe even taste it. A hybrid sensation. A recombinant awareness.
Does fear taste/ smell like shit?
Considering the fact that some people lose voluntary bowel control in alarm or fright (think: he shit his pants in terror), maybe so.
How should/ could I interpret my amusing dream? Literally, as in deep shit and exam fever, or getting stuck in a quagmire of the past? We all do get into some form deep shit at one point or another in our lives. Emotionally estranged and tormented, mentally challenged and exhausted, physically drained and fatigued. Stuck there, stationary, waiting for a miracle of any kind to lift us from that fix. But for how long? How long before we give up and drown ourselves, face down, in that shit? Aw what an awfully distasteful thought!
My synapses simply don't allow me to write anymore. Oyasumi, minnan-san.
