Feel like learning guitar again. Or take up photography again. Been looking through photography in DeviantArt, and it's simply mouth-watering, awesome-o-licious. Spotted angel wings for sale at Times Square, as in, for props? However, RM43 and if me do get that, might get whalloped verbally from me ma who'd wisely say I can get feather dusters for like
The air outside is nicely chilled. The few stars in my area twinkles once in a while. Yea, very dismal number, unlike in Port Dickson. To borrow a quote from "Three Seasons", the 'carriage-pullers' are poor people, and they live in a stark contrast to the rich visitors who live in hotels and eat 3 full meals a day etc. So while waiting for tourists to come out of the hotel and request their service, one of the carriage-pullers was telling his buddy, "All these 4-star, 5-star hotels... they should come to live at my house, it's 1000-stars! Because my house has no roof."
I wish nights are longer than mornings. To do that I could go to South or North Pole, if I recall my form 3 geography, there's a period of time where it's either morning or night for 24 hours.
Because in the darkness of night, it becomes the time I feel most alive. Of course, I will not be able to compare the fresh air at the break of dawn to it, but I love its stillness. The peacefulness. The danger that may await behind the shadows. You can do anything you want outside, when only the stars are your only witness (perhaps some peepin' Toms) and it'll be too dark for judgemental eyes. Once in a while, if you live near a forest, you'd hear some cricket orchestra, of whom in the past, their ancestors has met my brother's fishing hook. It's time for rest (well, apparently for the rest of the world, harrumph =}) and where it's quiet enough to hear sounds made by nature. Even in war torn countries, night time is when all activites cease, a break from violence. And now, an interuption from my logical mind, hey, rapes happen around that time, creepy crawlies sneak out at night, murders happen at night... Thanks a lot for breaking me from my reverie, O Logical Mind of mine.
We often ask for tragedy to not befall us; these tragedies infinite to list down. Its effects ranges from pure sorrow to petty everyday mistakes. We cry, we moan, complain about these rocks thrown to us unexpectedly. But I appreciate sadness. It's not that I'm trying to be optimistic, I too wail when the rocks hit me, albeit inwardly. Because without, I know not the value of happiness. Over the years, after adolescence years shrouded me in the blues and self-despair, I came to appreciate happiness more. This seemingly elusive thing, this burst of fresh air after being shut in a container breathing in carbon dioxide, that I, and countless of others, are trying to gain. As humans, we live on contrast. Even as an artist, after applying a highlight, we would also add a darker colour near it to emphasize its strength. Like, when I sleep, the air conditioner runs and I cuddle a pillow under a comforting blanket. I did pondered before that I might as well turn it off and sleep without a blanket. Heck, I even tried it. But soon after, it reverts back to wrapping self up like a popiah (with head poked out =P) and enjoying the warmness when it's cold out there.
A hug when the air is warm but my soul is cold.
A gentle smile when all around you are frowning; an extended hand when shoes are thrown at you.
Hate to sound like the Pope or Oprah or similiar, but
Bless this World.