struck

change my routine just for a slight bit and it feels like a house landed on my head. a bungalow with a trampoline in the garden and maybe a koi pond. urghhh...

: again, i am supposed to travel with him (SAA). by car. he drove. he kept asking me to check if passports were ready and some other travel documents. tickets and forms and whatnots. we were supposed to convoy but that didn't happen and we were just driving, driving, driving, when i forced myself to wake up because it was just getting far too mental...:

: received the news that i was pregnant and all i could think of was....................wait for it.......... milkshakes! went to that terrible fast-food joint but of course, the milkshake booth had to be shut because the machine was out of order and thus i trudged my way over to another terrible fast-food joint and settled for some mediocre beverage and cold fries. also, i was stuck feeding a tree monster pebbles and stones. meh. :

be a good child and listen to elk.
come on, now.

: so he (SAA) came to pick me up clad in what was his once all-time casual-wear and we were supposed to travel together to some far off place. there was this huge private jet in the backyard. all fancy and stuff. take off. and i am still on the ground looking at the sky. looking at the jet...setting away... :

q : what is worse than dreaming about milkshakes?
a : waking up to none.

suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks.

occupied by a duo from brighton.
oh so, nevermind.

heavy

: ran up and down a government office. kept checking documents in my locker. repeatedly. endlessly. shifted to a face i would like to drive my knuckles in. switched to me going for a job interview at some education centre. the appointment was supposed to be at 12:21 and i was early. as usual. time up and the boss was nowhere to be found and receptionist told me to come back at six in the evening. and she received a helluva thrashin' from me. of course. then went to a convenient store to look at umbrellas. they were either yellow or orange or red and i almost got an umbrella with cat prints on it. the umbrella wasn't too small or anything but i felt like i needed something much bigger than that. switched to me in an empty room surrounded by chubby, fluffy kitties. adorable to the core. the best was a clown cat. really. it was ash grey and it had a lion's mane but the mane was in royal blue curls. clowny indeed. :

listen to moth dust.

00110001 00110000 00110001 00110000 00110001 00110000

: so i went to see this really awesome band and i had the band tshirt but it was yellow and i did not really like it but was proud that i had it anyway and i was all geared up in 1970s sportswear. tucked in tshirt, shorts with stripes at the sides and knee high socks and all... and the show was in a casino and the band decided to do an acoustic set and when i went out to get some air, i met my colleagues from work. what an absolute downer!!! :

it's a feelgood playlist.
oh yes.

--->
them ants were crawling all over my left thigh and twice a greyish-white kitten stood in the corner of my room. and its tail brushed against my left calf. tiny white circles encompassing and pink streaks flashing and the stairs moved back and forth. like it was yesterday.
<---

---

: i found myself enrolled in a police academy but there was no physical training. and i only had to be there once a week and do lots of written quizzes and write essays and listen to boring lectures of road safety. what gives? :

" easy come easy go.
easy lucky easy blow.
cut my finger you will see.
the happiness in all of me. "

music from before and after has never been better.
thanking all those responsible.
yes you know who you are.

xox

devotion II

be blinded not by fairy lights
and saccharine sweets on glittering trays.
but by your constant faith and gratitude which shines the brightest
on the darkest of days.

---
merry eid mubarak 1431.

xox

take down your art

why the need to display it
why the need to justify every single word and action
why make the effort
why go the distance
why bother to try to prove

because it was never yours in the first place.

p.s. the fine line between a scrapbook and book of scraps.

listen to german metal.