Am feeling increasingly murderous today. I even turned my hate upon Google Reader and didn’t feel like looking at it. I rearranged the board game cabinet, imported a couple of years-ago burned CDs which I promptly crushed into plasticky, glittery shards – and made sesame peanut noodles (which was supposed to wipe out the bubonic plague but hadn’t yet been glooped together, back in the day). T
That last bit of descriptive overspillage is courtesy of my watching of Nigella in an attempt to feel *less* murderous.
I’ve been feeling like this the entire day. I have not yet forsaken my blog, though. Although, I’ll admit I didn’t think much of it all day. In a very forsakey mood am I. Torn between feeling lost, and wanting to rip apart the inefficient, flimsy, built-in cabinets in my room.
Which is why, it is perhaps apt that I leave you with Shuichi Nakano’s “Searching for Paradise”. (Read: monstrous, size of murderous mood, really oddly disproportionate, call of nature etc.)
夢の途中 (In the midst of a dream)
初秋の風、夏の余韻 (Early autumn wind, lingering memory of summer)
５時２５分の寒気 (Chill at 5:25)
真昼の記憶 (Memory of noon)
荒天の予感 (Premonition of storm)
帰り道を忘れて (Forgetting the way home)
春の園 (Spring garden)
楽園を捜して (Searching for paradise)