...matches my mood almost perfectly. sometimes the universe has such a bizarre sense of humor like that. in a way, i cannot WAIT to get out of this dank, damp, cold, rainy weather and go back home to Hawaii. at least, in Maui, when it rains i can go out running in it, like i used to many years ago, or go swim in the ocean... where the water could very well be warmer than the rain, or even the night air.

some days i wish i was Will in Pullman's novel, or had a subtle knife like he did -- so i could cut into another world with it, whenever i needed to, if one world suddenly rang with bitterness, or echoed with an empty feeling. or if monsters should suddenly rear up from anonymous depths. then again, if it were something inside of me, inside my mind, that i was trying to run away from, it wouldn't work, would it? ever feel like that? ::hollow laugh insert::

so i had wanted to write about last Wednesday in a 'literary' sense, as something peculiar was happening, in way that became clear to me only with the passing of a little time, and with me stepping back a bit and being objective, i.e., not too emotionally invested in what happened. being kinda 'above it' somehow, as if from a purely writerly perspective. i still don't know if i can do this, but i should... otherwise i think i'll forget how it felt. the realizations, that is.

ah, nope. no go. this is useless. forget it. something someone told me on IM just this afternoon resonates with me right now, and very clearly, like a purely struck bell: how their weblog writing seems boring and tedious to them. well, that's what it seems like today for me. the inspiration has gone out like air from a balloon punctured with a rusty needle. perhaps i shall find it another day.

all i can say is i'm at least pleased that i got Cole and Jorge to start reading the Pullman trilogy (even if not immediately, it's okay, guys). perhaps they'll write about their experience of reading it, sometime.

i took this pic last Monday, somewhere on campus, walking back from Quad's class. i found it curious and a little odd to see how someone pasted those pictures or magazine cutouts on the recycling bin. some days, i feel "recycled"... and some days i feel like "mixed paper" myself:

{ net.casting }
^