old again...

... once more. Shoobee doo lang lang.

Some medical-like book I read says male humans stop growing around the age 21 (damn!). Unfortunately, that does not cover growing sideways.

Growing up seriously isn't all it's cracked up to be. This Responsibility thing really isn't entertaining at all. Lots of work, almost no fun. Why would anyone do that to themselves?

Still, getting older un-alone is a helluva lot more fun than otherwise. Somebody did a rather good job this year. Hear me giggle in delight: tee hee.

Hopefully there will be visual indicators of memories. Or maybe there won't be.

Shoobee doo lang lang.

stop and smell the pisspot...

Did you ever notice, the more you have going on in life, the less time you spend writing about it?

A drop from one or more posts a day to maybe twice a month is a sure sign of interesting times.

routine...

First thing I see in the morning...

Up the stairs...

Australian loos are single room free standing affairs.

To the kitchen for brekkie maybe.

Hmm, everyone's left already.

If I'm lucky, the bus will come so I won't have to walk down the hill to catch the other one.

Have to walk back up the hill on the way home.

Yay, driveway!

Getting closer...

And safe!

Go check out the backyard first...

Fish isn't out today...

I'll just wait here...

faith...

... is believing that the best will still turn out despite yourself.

... is knowing that no matter what, things will work out for someone someway.

... is waking an realizing that there's someone out there worth waking up for.

... is noticing the sun rise even though it's cloudy and knowing water is good for plants.

... is the ability to smile in an irritating smug way that you knew that despite there being stupid voters that a two-third was prevented.

the world...

... does not revolve around me.

Not yet, anyway.

house...

...is like home, except maybe not.

New place is rather nice. Think late eighties construction, in a very white-man style home. Or rather Enid Blyton, without the vicious hatred of children boiling subcutaneously.

Room that is mine is/was the study. Slightly shorter than last year's room, but a hell lot more comfy, with crimson carpeting and windows opening out into rose bushes again.

Yard is rather nice and everything. Big enough to toss a disc, not too big it's a pain to keep. Small, mostly dehydrated, pond in one corner. Sometimes you can see a goldfish inside. How it's keeping alive is really weird.

Distances are a bit far. Used to be a five minute walk to class. Now it's like a twenty minute walk to the bus stop, another 33 minutes to campus if the bus arrives on time. All very tiring, but should be sleek and smexy by mid year. Unless I get fat-ter.

At any rate, I can't say it's too depressing. Tiresome it may be, but when you're walking with shadows, the sun is always bright.

all gone...

A week till departure. Only did two things out of twelve I set out to do. Again, Morningtide was okay. Food was good, plentiful, excessive. No trips, no randomness. I feel ripped off.

Looking forward to another year is similar to looking forward to a lot of nothing. What do you do when there's no life left in your years?