quixotic englishman

he: are you happy now? with me?
me: i don't see us as an item. but i do feel happy in certain way.
he: you cannot say that you're happy without expecting me to be lovestoned by you.
me: lovestoned? are you on drugs or something?
he: this is my attempt to be romantic. give me some credit please.
me: sloppy!!!

this, somehow bring a smile to my boring weekend.

inferno

we read to know that we are alone.

and sometimes like the song said, alone does not mean lonely. but right now, i don't even know what is the different. i am so not myself lately yet i feel like i used to be this person. it's just coming back to haunt me. weird. haunted by your own self. and locked.

i think i need Kindle, or iPad, or perhaps just a nice brand new glasses. and lock myself into my red room of pain.

englishman in jesselton

he: favourite music?
me: concerto in D minor by Bach. you?
he: a lot but i like anything from Sting mostly.
me: gosh!!! you're so old.
he: and you're ancient, madame. who listen to Bach now?
me: hey!!! it gives me the lonesome mood to read.
talking about reading, need to finish this one before the holiday.
talk to you later.
he: just don't stay late. you have to work tomorrow. night, rabbit.
me: i'm not your pet.
he: you refused to be my mrs. i can pet you.
me: you are so impossible!!!