breathe, warm me up

If it's all over, all said and done, why does merely seeing it make me feel odly disturbed? It could be because of the dream, but honestly, the dream had nothing to do with anything. Perhaps it's the combination of the music and the words that I read that adds up to it. Maybe. Mayhaps. And most probably.

Neverwhere is tightening up. I love how the band sounds, the full band with Mister Shen. Definitely not as raw and the latest song, is so prog-rock. I can't wait for us to gig. I just need to settle my vocal melody. I think I've just found myself a train of thought to use. Ok. That didn't make sense.

These words mean nothing
Your very essence bothers me no more
Yet there's this strange awkward ripping feeling
To realise again
How fast I've been distanced, further away

That I could be envious, green-eyed and malicious
But what for (Whatever for)
With that smile upon her face
Your hand, my cheek, that harsh crack

Then again, when I think about it. What's there to seriously be disturbed about? Funny how words can slant and shift a lot of things. Don't know la. Must be like delayed stress reaction from work, that my mind is in overdrive and of all things to decide to be all disturbed and shit, that.

I shall just keep 300 in mind. The Spartans. Eileen and her random MySpace messages ARE YOU A FRIEND OF SPARTA makes me smile. I've an allergic reaction to something and I miss someone, somewhat.

It's 12 noon. Something to eat, something to drink, light please. A stick of nicotine, Sia in the background and then a nice warm shower. My brain's just dead. Of all things and of all reasons. He asks are you truly over it? I can't say yes because then it would contradict with what happened this morning and with how I felt. But if I said no, then that would be even worse. If I'm not over it, I'm just wallowing in self-pity and agony and all that nonsense. Useless. And from what and how I see it, where I stand and am right now, things are going pretty good.

I think, there should be a time, soon, to stop being so dependent on technology. To be the first thing I run to when I reach home or before I head to work. Damn, I really must be allergic to something because my foot itches like hell. ARGH!