Notes

This entry is a verbatim copy of the original as posted in Vroenis, the older diary of the two I write. As of the 20th of September 2010, I have made this entry temporarily available as a new entry has been written in Vroenis. - It was a tough decision, but I decided to post…

Which naturally means that it's all happening there without me. Friday Pragmatism has been deferred until Sunday evening when I get home from my sister's. I wanted you to meet my sister My brother My family They're as defiant and imperfect as I am As stubborn As beautiful, even when I don't like ...

After the rarefaction, the compression is inevitable Today is a day of excess There is too much Third party failures are particularly trying, directly and indirectly Beautiful things are poisoned by bad necessities The trying things keep rushing in the flood The good things keep departing Pragmat...

I notice my nose doesn't bleed any-more I sleep less Then I sleep more That I now have downward spikes as fast as the upwards Very quickly Acceleration A point of contact And it's over too quickly The mechanics of muscle-memory are too strong Take over with efficiency I want to slow them down The...

I'm tired Every scent I smell today reminds me of Japan I miss it I'm beginning to miss it every day The streets of Osaka, Kyoto and Tokyo Music makes me think of it, even music I've acquired since coming back It's Europe this year but I'm longing to return to Japan Human contact, while…

I sit for hours in the house The windows open In the darkness No music On the table before me is a pot of Jasmine tea A cup This is what I want to do Without interruption In this time Everything is an interruption And the Strangeness is not strange at all

Because they make sense to me In the past I may have been tempted to call them the oddest of moments Nevertheless Here at my desk Reviewing my work My tasks And thinking about my life After years of talking so much, I do believe I crave the attentions of someone to whom I can…

Rika ends up saying less when she grows more intimate with someone. I admire this quality. My peace is something dearly guarded indeed. Even some of my dearest friends do not have access to it, and if so, very rarely. I am taking stock of such things. Crafting dialects for them. Crafting language...

It is all the times I sat with my cup of tea Looking out at the garden In the warmth In the cool With my bare feet tucked beneath my legs on the sofa Sitting on the wall by the sea wrapped in a coat All the times I stared at you from across the…

I need this. And now I'm off to remind myself of the dirtiness and fragility of human-kind, to keep myself from doing the afore-mentioned stupid thing. Too much. It's too much. All of it.