Today I subconsciously found myself taking a much extended route home. The week's weather is getting to me, but in a good way. I literally had wind blowing in my hair, not like those F4 kids who had to rely on enormous fans to give a close-to-realistic-but-not-there-yet wind-in-hair look. Loser boybands aside, I had a full mind. I was thinking about everything and how they came down to what they are. I thought of the meticulous. Instead of shelving it to the back of my head, I brought it up and smiled to myself. I bet I looked mad and probably gay, but whatever. I ended up at 529 on a wooden bench with 5 year olds offering cookies. My head didn't spin like it should after thinking about 101 different things. I felt curiously calm and tired. But the type of tired where it's after yoga and you wonder how much of the exercise was psychological instead.
Before I left, I concluded that everyone should have these alone sessions from time to time. Alot of you probably already do, but for those of you who don't/haven't had one in a really long time, I highly reccommend. Finding time nowadays seems to be an Indiana Jones adventure : impossible. But when you do manage to scrape out leftovers from the bottom of the Time bowl, resist the temptation to hit EspEMO-NATIONlanade, skip Candy Empire and drag yourself with whatever energy you have left down to Marina Promenade. It's a user of L 'Oreal. Worth it.
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Now wasn't that one fucked up way to end.