moments to share, moments to care

do i have a deep subconscious desire to be read - to reveal and be ashamed? doubt it.
i'm writing for two reasons - or two that i'm aware of. one, so i can read it in old age, or middle age. always regret so few photos of us as children. you think: what's the point, today is like any other day, nothing special, not worth recording. but it is, it was. why? because, it's all there is.

second is, because i feel so happy. haven't always been this happy and know i won't always be so in the future; so wanted to pickle and preserve, not for historical interest, bet as possible future store to draw on in leaner years.

if you want to sleep with me, you might end up sleeping with the fish.

the past month has been interesting in experiences. rarely things trigger the urge to write though. which saddens me. what concerns the rest of the life flow, i'm just flowing along with it. but not as a dead fish. more like i'm in the stream, but as the river decides to divide up, i still choose which path to flow in.
events happen without my presence. things happen without my approval. and i don't feel like anything more than just dust. but don't be mistaken, it is not a bad feeling. it is a good feeling. it is flowing in the harmony and waiting for the perfect moment.

one of those days i can't wait to end.

or try to make the best out of it to turn it around.

there is no such thing as dreams.
there is an idea. an agenda. and systematic work to pursue the goal.

it is amazing to see the change in the personality from a wallflower to a social butterfly. from being polite to being charming.
from giving to taking.

from giving up to building a new road.

it's clear now.

i think too much..

..about myself.

tired of living politically correct.

put me out of my misery and turn my life up side down, will you?