How nice it is to listen to music on the radio and feel that none of it is remotely related to you.

All those sleepless nights and irritable turns and unsure days and gloom and storm and thunder and rain and low esteem. For this ending.
Cliched as this is, I feel like it's a dream. For I have had several dreams of being accepted by various universities, from which I would awake groaning at the cruelty of my own mind. I don't know how to react though. Suddenly there is no time. Suddenly I'm aware of all the roots I've put out.

Oh well... To be brave and excited.

Rereading the earlier blogs, I feel damn silly. Ephemeral enthusiasm.

It's a game, isn't it?

Yes it is. How many times can you play the trailer and still give yourself goosebumps. For the sake of ouside eyes I won't say. But you and I, Bloggy, we know.

Don't hyperventilate. (Ragged breathing)

I didn't think I was a star trek fan, or a nerd, just an afficianado. oh how I have lied to myself. I was casually reading the wiki entry on the newest film with interest on the new blood injected into the franchise. But then I read the following line

The first teaser trailer debuted in theaters with Cloverfield on January 18, 2008.

Ah, ah, ah... my heart and my bones

"There's a trailer?!"

I haven't seen it yet. I wanted to record this while I am still breathing excitedly.

And now, it has finished loading...

Some songs and lyrics produce a state of happy dreaminess in me. I am listening to one now. Imogen Heap is telling me "Such boundless pleasure, We've no time for later now".
I like this now. I like this minute, this passing second and it laughs at me as it slips out of my overeager grasp. I am so alive. Everything in me is awake, looking out of the windows watching me take them on this journey.

Am I so absorbed in my self that I am losing the sympathy to be in another skin. I liked doing that, I tried the other day. But I just found my maiden-aunt attitude coming on, disapproval of the new skin's actions. I miserably slipped back into mine.

Oh come off it. Do you really care right now? No, no, no. Nothing in me cares. I am not dead yet.

And if it comes to the worst I'll take Ms Heap's word for it. There's beauty in the breakdown.

I can't sleep. I love my dog. I LOVE my dog. Endlessly, fiercely and I am so upset to think these are his sunset years. What will this world be without him? I am desolate while just imagining it.
How will I go on?
Brutus, Brutus, I don't know what life will be without you. If only I had met you near my end, so that I could go before you had to. There is already a huge void in my heart where I miss you because you're not here and you're old and alone at home. I want you happy, my doggiest doggy.

My throat is lumpy and I'm sobbing like a baby. Oh Brutus, don't die