Monday, August 9, 2004


The anxious background music of violins being played in anyway possible creeps up my spine during the most boring times of my day. I am waiting for the dramatic outcome to this invisible soundtrack that steps on the scuffs of my heels. Though the climatic manifestation will probably take the form of breaking a dish, ripping a page, or tripping on my own shoelaces. I am currently undeserving of such mental string popping and chafing.