that her dream is to one day quit whatever she was doing and open a small cafe where she would hold readings and philosophical discussions in the corner. And the way she explained it and then got embarassed when she caught herself babbling about it for just a little too long. If I could write this story any better, then I would be a much better writer than I am. Oh, how could that NOT be worth a song?

My weekend didn't quite go to plan and my Saturday night out was a complete waste of time [keyword to self: side bar] that I wish I could take back. But I'm sitting here in the dark in front of my 32" monitor after reading our chat archives and I'm grinning like a fool.

And my job is still up in the air after July and I have two holidays (one whose details are also up in the air) booked already so I'm pretty much immobile until September.

But I'm grinning like a bloody fool. I'm flying blind without a co-pilot. But, damn, I'm flying!

Viva life!

just found on Facebook this old friend of mine that I lost touch with. We had a short but nice bond for a little while and now it seems she's married. To the guy who, when we last spoke, had been a total dickhead to her. I mean, really bad...

I guess maybe they figured things out. Or maybe he changed his spots. Or maybe dickheads do finish first... seems to happen a lot.

But I gathered this info while going through some pics which I probably shouldn't have. Someone I don't know that a friend told me to 'check out'.

So fruit from the poison tree and all that. I can't use this to get her contacts. I would love to be able to say hi.

But I just hope you're doing OK and that these years have treated you kindly.

even though you know it's not really real, it's still nice. It's still nice to think someone cares. Someone loves you. Someone thinks the world of you. And yes it's not real. Only foolish people and those under the age of fifteen should expect anything other than that this game must end at some point. And most likely in a fizzle or a fit or a ful-blown tragedy.

But that doesn't really mean it should stop you from keeping on going. It's fun for the moment and so maybe you should just ride it out until the inevitable end when walls will weep and hearts will be plucked out and ground to a paste of infinite shrieking and gnashing of teeth.

Oh to be so dramatic!

But that's the game isn't it? To be played with full gusto and spirit until the bitter end. Or the unlikely scenario that you actually finish the game and you rescue the princess or the princess rescues you. What would happen then?

how am i supposed to know when you finally start meaning these things!

It's not a question. It's a demand.

And this all could be a waste of time. But it's only a waste of time if you have something better to do.

These are but tiny little sparks.
Let them breathe and they will grow.
Keep them in darkness and they will still shine.
But may they never be smothered or crushed or discarded.
May they never grow old and tired and stale.
May they never be ignored.
May they never be forgotten.
May they never die.

like his role in Monster's Ball where he died early. He was brilliant. A standout in that film, and then his character was snuffed. Suddenly. Unceremoniously. And it made a hole and left me, as the audience, wanting. Yeah I'm pretty bummed about Heath Ledger's death. I mean, not that I'm I'm crying or anything but I do feel it. He was young and he was very very talented. At 28, I dare you to name five other male actors of his generation who are more accomplished than he was. I don't think I could even name one. Imagine the amount of great films he could have amazed us with before he reached, say, Johnny Depp's age. The potential was massive. I'm not sure everyone understands that.

I've been asked 'what's the difference between his death and some guy off the street?' And yeah, probably in the cosmic scheme of things there is no difference. But the difference to me is that while he was alive, he entertained me. He inspired, excited and moved me.

My view of artists (whether they be actors, musicians, painters, writers or whatever) is that they entertain us. They make us feel things. And I don't care if they get paid millions (maybe because I would love to be one myself). They make my world better.

So I have to say that I'm sad to him go. He stil had a whole second act to do.

that work is normal again. I'm on top of things there. At least for a while. There's a To-Do list in my head that I feel I should complete. Some of the items are quite easy and others aren't. And maybe not all of them REALLY need to get done.

Writing more is one of them. But I am having a problem of not really caring. About anything. I just feel like having fun for a while.

I just watched Little Miss Sunshine and I liked it but I think it's really brought my mood down. I know it's a comedy but it's also absolutely brutal. So now I don't know what to write because I'm now distracted. I need to watch something lighter. Maybe Reaper.

You know how sometimes you open a jumbo packet of chips and it tastes good but you know that if you finish the whole pack you're gonna feel pretty miserable by the end of it? It's now I'm feeling now. Except I'm beating around the bush. I really need to stop

so was walking after work around the city. I went to the comic store like I do every Thursday (which is shipment day), but this time I went on. Wondering the city made me feel a little Holden Caulfield, except without the fascination with death. Actually I can’t really remember how much death was involved with the book but I just remember that it made me depressed to read it and I didn’t like it as much as many other people do. It didn’t help that I borrowed it from a friend of mine who was chronically melancholic. And he always said that it was his favourite book.

I don’t think I’ve ever really contemplated suicide, but if I did, well today wasn’t it. I’m not overjoyous happy, but I believe that I am in a good place and I have been for a while. It’s probably why I haven’t written anything. So the walk was a little aimless and I may have been a little restless. It may have had something to do with the eggs at home that were going to expire tonight. And I was sort dreading having to think about what to do with them. (In the end it all worked out fine. I’m not totally sure what a frittata is but I believe that what I made tonight is probably pretty close.)

Maybe it was because my apartment had more than a few empty bottles (emptied by multiple people, mind you. I haven’t been binge drinking at home!) lying around and it was looking messy for the first time. I’m always afraid of times when everything goes downhill. Like, well this could be the day that I stop caring and I’ll get messy again.

Maybe it was that I had planned to see a movie tonight with a friend who never ended up replying to my email. Not that it upset me, because truth be told I am tired tonight and would rather be at home. But it’s this habit of mine. I make plans to go see people and it’s like I already have it in my head that it’s going to happen before they even tell me whether they can make it or not. So when they can’t make it, it’s a big disappointed. On my more elaborate plans, I even have conversation topics prepared.

But no matter. I was just walking around.

I have a crush (and I believe ‘crush’ is the appropriate term to use in this case) on this girl who, as far as I know, I cannot have. And I was thinking about her as I walked into the bookstore. While I did momentarily get distracted by a plastic slip case adorned with the image of Batman on the cover of Detective Comics #27, I was mostly thinking about her. And then, as I went to the front counter to purchase the distraction, I bumped into one of her friends, which is interesting because I only met her last week (the friend, not the girl) but not really all that interesting because this friend did tell me when I met her that she worked at this bookstore. But to be fair to me, I really had forgotten. And to be fair to the coincidence, she wasn’t working tonight.

I realised that both these girls are sort of similar. They both have this charming awkwardness about them. It makes me a little awkward too. It’s like characters from the Gilmore Girls or something (which is one of her favourite shows) where everyone talks fast in order to fill the awkward silences and to make themselves sound as smart and hip and cool as they can be.

I also now realise that if she were to read this blog entry, then she would realise that it is her that I am talking about here. She’s pretty cluey like that. And also because I will write an email to her tomorrow and tell her that I bumped into her friend at the bookstore. But I doubt it, really. The only way I see that she would read this is if she specifically googled me and found my blog. And her doing so would imply that maybe my chances with her aren’t as bad as I think, in which case I wouldn’t mind her reading it. At the very least this would make her blush. A little. I’ll just have to remember never to mention to her that I have a blog when I’m drunk. Like the time I mentioned to my work colleague that I just went for a job interview that week. That was a good one.

The chance encounter with the friend wasn’t particularly exciting, but it sort of was if you know what I mean. And then after