Thyme

mMmm...

Supper wasn't bad. Sweet meat, sweet.

Anyway,

I was 'working' tadae. ;) 2-5pm; now thats my kind of job. Get to learn tons too. mMmm... If only i had mad Mandarin skillz, then I'd be able to help out with all the translating stuff they've got to go through. Ah well, less work for me. Gawd I'm a total bumfest, even my jobs bumming around. Can't wait for the shoots. Even if I'm not even barely a factor in the production, its still fun to watch everything unfold.

Shadow stood by idly,
As day waved slowly by,
Sweet, sweet , melancholy,
The windows so hastily dry,

I'm can't be bothered to think right now. Just feeling really awkward. You ever feel like you dont fit in you own skin sometimes? Its like some days, things just come out all wrong. And the harder you try... the worse it all gets?

mMmm...

Got it... All I got ta do is lay back and relax. Heck, be myself. LoL, its the easiest most natural thing ta do. That should do the trick... I hope... I'm gonna go chill now...

Oh I wrote this a few days ago. I need to edit it... Help me out?

Intangible waves of cascading notes rippled from the sleek shape of the avant-garde stereo-system. Staccatos and ties meshed exquisitely to form a wonderfully intricate tapestry only fully grasped by far too few. The room seemed almost preternaturally dark for neither moon nor stars deemed to grace the waning night.
Then brusque and sudden the shrill scream of the digital alarm infringed heavy-handedly upon the effortless elegance of the moving concerto. Shifting only grudgingly, a diminutive form, hitherto hidden in a fortress of soft white cotton sheets and feather pillows came gradually into view. Yawning precariously the boy stumbled out of the inviting warmth and safety that was his refuge. Slogging mentally through the fog of sleep that yet threatened to envelope him he trudged with purpose towards the silver profile of the ringing alarm and with languid yet somehow near dreadful finality let fall his hand on the flush snooze button on the top of the clock.
Five more minutes, he pleaded with himself but to no purpose. He often found talking to himself this early in the morning a pointless and rather boorish experience. He could never seem to reason with himself in this condition. He sensed himself clicking off the alarm proper and proceeding to the next item that fit into his daily and essential ritual of rousing himself from sleep. For a full twenty minutes the boy stood almost unmoving before the stereo that was much more to him than a clever construction of plastic and metal. It was his window into the fantastical and something indescribably otherworldly. As the soft beauty of composition washed over him his young psyche drew inevitably towards the events of the prior day. He had known, far too well what answer he would receive long before he uttered a single prying word. He had asked the question too many times before. Too many times had the same answer, the very one he had received only hours before, been invariably returned to him. He had known, but yet he persisted to ask, the fundamental basis of his curiosities reluctance to cease being hope for a better conclusion, even if he had learnt already not to hope too much. He would gain understanding when he grew into age. He ached for a time when his beard was long and snowy, for surely then would he be old enough to possess the wisdom to know the resolution to his trifling question.
He sighed the sigh of a little boy
The day would be another one. Another routine viciously carried out with brutal efficiency and with the absolute maximum exploitation of time. He was not ready but then, it was already too late.
He opened his eyes and turned a silver knob.
Abruptly the melody halted with only silence filling the gap.