crooked through

2011/02/28

๓๑

today should not be about crankiness. i did my best. though crankiness too had his few moments.

"i saw norwegian wood by the way."

they ran out of neopan and realas.

2011/02/25

i had mugs of chang in draft. it was opportune. to possibly leave me with a restful sleep yet i stay awake contemplating. that i probably had too many mugs of draft. there was a special surprise bag containing what can be associated with some memories. a champa whiskey bottle to remind me to have even just a glass to celebrate a thirty-first. a pack of joma's to remind me of numerous days in quiet vientiane or quiet luang prabang. a pack of dao coffee. all from laos. and a keychain of a small wooden sinister-looking mask. from bhutan.

i finished the last remaining slides of my last film roll.

and i arrived restless. four hours is all i need.

2011/02/23

to sleep is to be free

it must be humiliating, or, possibly, humbling, the way he seemed to be sidelined. most of the time. by the powers that be that seemed to know not the lessons of capacitating the young with the experience and expertise of the old. he has had brushes with dispensability but in no way it came close to a feeling of irrelevance and being underutilized. most is about the way the end can justify the means, or more of misplaced means to reach the same end.

at the very least he is still fortunate to have a sort of mentor. against all powers that be and all odds. he can find more ways to soar without the limelight.

oh to capture that restful sleep.