Blind Willow Sleeping Woman - Haruki Murakami

When I closed my eyes, the scent of the wind wafted up towards me. I stood on the porch admiring the the trees as they danced beneath the azure sky. I started to see animal shapes taking form in the clouds. A skinny rabbit chasing after a tiny mouse. A falcon soaring through the air, cutting the horizon in half as it streamed by. A basset hound with a huge grin on its face. The LSD was kicking in. It was a familiar feeling. The tiny hairs on my arms started to rise, an electric surge coursing through my veins. Lisa, I forgot about Lisa. I made my way to the living room which was still adorned with pictures of my ex-wife and daughter and saw Lisa lying on the carpet, her gaze fixed on my dirty ceiling. I waited for awhile before calling out to this pixie of a girl I had just met the night before. An obscure Radiohead song was playing in the background and Lisa looked like she was enjoying her trip. I preferred it outside. The walls were breathing and this made me nauseous. As I made my way to Lisa my stomach started rumbling and I could feel the music inside my head. Expanding. Stretching. Filing the void. I felt like my brain was a ticking bomb about to explode.
"Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?" her question echoing between my ears.
I was in the bathroom kneeling in front of the toilet as if it were a demi god I had been praising for what felt like years. I looked at the strange yet attractive girl standing over me. Was she really floating? Her white sundress was glowing. An angel I thought to myself. An angel here to save me from this bad trip. Redeem me from this life of debauchery. A life filled with alcohol, hard drugs, and philandering. The linoleum tiles stared to melt behind her. She helped me get on my feet and we made are way to the couch. I felt better after vomiting. Lighter than air, like all the baggage and burden on my shoulders were flushed down the toilet.
As we sat on the couch I could feel my body becoming one with the upholstery. I was embarrassed. Here I was 38 years of age, midlife crisis at hand being cared for by an adolescent. She could have been my daughter. She took out a small paper bag and started rolling a joint. Her hands were delicate and seemed like she hadn't put in a days work in her life. She put the perfectly rolled spliff between her pink lips. The flame on the lighter was distracting and beautiful. As she exhaled, the smoke lingered in front of us and slowly swayed its way towards the ceiling. She passed me the joint and held my thigh.
"Everything will be okay." she whispered in my ear, kissing me on the cheek.
I took a drag and looked at the sunset through the window. Another day had gone by. The words "everything will be okay" echoed between my ears.

American Gods- Neil Gaiman

Shadow was in prison for three years. Hundreds of sunsets and sunrises he had missed while locked up in his four by six cell. A cell that boasted a bunk bed covered in ratty sheets, an old wooden desk and a toilet seat at the corner of the room. The calendar read June 22, 2011. To any other person it was another warm summer day, but to Shadow it meant freedom. Freedom from all the prison guards and malevolent inmates. Freedom from his four by six cell and mostly it was freedom from being locked up inside with just himself. As he prepared his belongings which comprised of a ratty old book, a calendar, a pen and a sweater a prison guard had appeared by his cell and called out that hey were ready to release him. Shadow quickly gathered his stuff and followed. He made sure that he did not say or do anything that would jeopardize him getting out. It took a while for everything to be settled. There were a lot of paper work to deal with and the office was not at all keen to let Shadow go, for one judge believed that he was not at all worthy of such a privilege. This frustrated Shadow and triggered an emotion in him that he was all too familiar with. An emotion that put him in this situation in the first place. Without realizing it, Shadow had blacked out, took his pen and stabbed the prison guard on the wrist. He quickly realized what he had done though and immediately apologized, but it was too late. He felt the freedom he was not able to taste slip away from him. How one emotion had overpowered him, he did not know. His plans of returning to the country side and seeing his family, gone. The taste of baby back ribs from the diner, gone. Shadow felt defeated by himself and did not even bother to fight as the prison guards took him away and sent him back to his lonesome four by six cell. He set up his calendar, lay on the bunk and fell asleep. How many more days he would be there, he did not know. Hundreds of sunsets and sunrises would pass him again was what he was sure of and it was he himself that caused him to be in this predicament all over again.

things that don't go together

oil and water
fire and air
pineapple and pizza
mint and chocolate
orange and chocolate
champorado and tuyo
crocs with anything
stripes and plaid
Erap and the presidency
Gloria Arroyo and a bikini
math and I

Awkward

penguins
you, your ex and your boyfriend in a balcony
braces and glasses
naked twister
sloppy kisses
when you're not sure if someone is saying hi to you
getting in the wrong car
long grueling silence
big feet
big heads
mothers on spring break
catching your brother doing his biz
better yet, catching your father
failed pick-up line
elevators
thinking someone called your name
saying something out loud in a noisy place,but then it goes silent just as you shout
snorting when you laugh

Things that should be big

bubbles
chocolate bars
imaginations
diamonds
penguins(would be freaky though)
our campus
your arse!
portraits
televisions
hot pandesal
cakes

Nails

I never grew out of my bad habit of biting my nails.
I don't know why this is so, but I've tried to stop and failed over and over again. Because of this I prefer my fingernails to have polish on them,so there's less chance I would bite them. Sad to say that I still do sometimes.My mum bites her nails as well, and I think she does it worse than I do because her fingers start bleeding. Can habits be hereditary?

Things that give a clean feeling

mouthwash
warm baths
brushing your teeth
baby powder
alcohol
crisp white shirt
baby cologne
clean feet
fresh air
incense
potpourri
a cup of tea
vitamins
white
new bedsheets
cold places
mints
peppermint foot spas
the sound of waves crashing
birds chirping in the morning
eating fiber enriched food