It takes great fortitude and tedious patience to get my earrings in. A meticulous, discreet shifting of the hand position and delicate poking that turns ears red, especially to someone who since young has never possessed a fondness for sharp things.
It finally stopped raining after 2 whole days of consistent downpour, a display, not unexpected, of persistence by nature. Long periods of scorching, heatwave days followed by moisturising showers, somewhat overdone.
I find myself displaying a growing agitated concern about global warming. I eye the plastic bags I use now, and the ones doled out carelessly by generous counter-staff. I feel I have and had a part to play when it comes to crazy weather and gone are the days when I would have taken plastic bags at will and whim, thinking I could save them up for later use. The term, I believe, is called a hoarder.
When rain leaves the skies perpertually grey and the only alternate colour is the sombre darkness of night, moods tend to be a little more crestfallen and unforgiving. As night sinks, so do human hearts, a minor despair of self-misery, unexplainable and unfathomable.
So many little things in life that seems to go wrong (yes I'm feeling grumpy coz I've a stomach bloat); bleakness is a second skin. I inhale misery and exhale futility.
I wish I had a better digestive system. Gah.
It finally stopped raining after 2 whole days of consistent downpour, a display, not unexpected, of persistence by nature. Long periods of scorching, heatwave days followed by moisturising showers, somewhat overdone.
I find myself displaying a growing agitated concern about global warming. I eye the plastic bags I use now, and the ones doled out carelessly by generous counter-staff. I feel I have and had a part to play when it comes to crazy weather and gone are the days when I would have taken plastic bags at will and whim, thinking I could save them up for later use. The term, I believe, is called a hoarder.
When rain leaves the skies perpertually grey and the only alternate colour is the sombre darkness of night, moods tend to be a little more crestfallen and unforgiving. As night sinks, so do human hearts, a minor despair of self-misery, unexplainable and unfathomable.
So many little things in life that seems to go wrong (yes I'm feeling grumpy coz I've a stomach bloat); bleakness is a second skin. I inhale misery and exhale futility.
I wish I had a better digestive system. Gah.
