foo

deja vu?

Noir.

~1984

warm, nice.

http://pacifix.wordpress.com/2007/07/30/the-arts-class-is-warm/

i really don't know how i'm feeling today...

...its a mix of six-seven strange new conflicting emotions

and all the wrong songs are giving me goosebumps. sigh.

brand new just for you. and you.

mum's new album is launching next month.
a preview to the same is here : dancing behind my eyelids.

hmmph. very little mum sweetness though.

pianoman

spell.

voulez vous du beurre?

Arriving in Paris always causes me pain, even when I have been away for only a short while. It is a city which I never fail to approach with expectation and leave with disappointment. There is a question which only I can ask and which only Paris can answer; but this question is something which I have never yet been able to formulate. Certain things indeed I have learnt here: for instance, that my happiness has a sad face, so sad that for years I took it for my unhappiness and drove it away. But Paris remains for me still an unresolved harmony. It is the only city which I can personify. London I know too well, and the others I do not love enough. Paris I encounter, but as one encounters a loved one, in the end and dumbly, and can scarcely speak a word. Alors, Paris, qu'est-ce que tu dis, toi? Paris, dis-moi ce que j'aime. But there is no reply, only the sad echo from crumbling walls, Paris.

~iris murdoch, under the net