beside the sun's windmill there is the moon's cradle

A person from light would be interested on a play of shades. A person familiar with the dark would find the dances of little glows fascinating.


It has been a fine week. With expected strifes and thrives. Also the comings of joy, rowdiness and companies that could not and should not be taken for granted. Now that the curtains is drawing close and sleepiness has kicked in, I slowly unlocked my door to peek outside, again to find my friend curling herself by the door sill. A little ball of fur that moves.

And breathes. And is helplessly honest, with little capacity for grudge and an infinite curiosity for caress and treats. So vulnerable yet refreshingly blunt and kinda loyal. Still a better company than hidden diaries and plants, because they don't really appreciate you and miss you although they are as secretive and quiet. Also, she's warmer.

Well, actually, I was sad. I was sorrowful yet my mind was scorching hot. My whimsical emotion was lashing out, raging tornados and flame towers, blaming someone, getting pissed off at everyone. How carefree of them to rant about clouds and winds as if they were signs of an apocalypse! The nerves of those who were lucky enough to never witness a storm lasting for years, let alone living through it! It took layers of arrogance of a superego to apply sensible wits into practice, to swallow the fact that it was a dumb and disgusting assumption that should never be allowed to steer my actions and use that as an instant painkiller. After all, I'm too lazy to trouble myself with a real, horrible, drug addiction.

Over time, I've come to a delusion that the sky is always kind enough to cry in my place, that my own tears, when shed, are warm drops of blood from some gaping lacerations on something else, somewhere there.

And this rant is bloody useless, kinda embarrassing and, to be honest, unwanted. Even I'm seriously reluctant to press the 'publish' button. I'll just depend on people's indifference towards anything else that is not about them, to take this only as a short random stuff. The last thing I want is to add to the pile of negativity, another strand of whine. You see, right now I'm being vain. Not for a sense of self-righteousness, but I am actually thinking very hard on a way to utilize this entry to bring near some positivity. Perhaps not now. Perhaps it will be useful for my future self somehow. Well, that is how logs work usually, I guess.





Are you passing your free time? Is this random enough to your liking, I wonder? I don't understand one thing if it's not - why would you read this in the first place?

Nights!