i have not written--written seriously, with feeling--in quite some time. my mind is blank; i can't read; i don't think; i'm preoccupied with trivialities...worries...desires

i envy those, like you, who are beautiful and creative always..who don't forget themselves in the silence

Mads Mikkelsen becomes both uglier and more beautiful the longer you look at him...

i don't have the strength to worry about you... and that frightens me

f's dialogue of the month

me: ouchhh..
f: where does it hurt?
me: here..
f:: so, stomach
me: not stomach.. lower
f: you know your stomach is not an atom, or a molecule.. it's an organ, it takes some space

what to say

i don't care if mayor Ford is a closet cocaine addict (as long as he does his job effectively)... my only concern is that he lied--repeatedly and shamefully--with that stupid bombast and attitude of his