Every Breath You Take

Yanno, despite the lyrics sounding like a stalker's, the song is quite neat. The bass is steady, and what sounds like a guitar whose strings are being stifled - this, this is what makes the song.

I sit here with my head in a fog; my mind is in quiet mode. The racing thoughts that normally abound have taken holiday and left me somewhat lonely, yet at peace, such a quiet, otherworldly peace. It's probably because I've barely eaten today, but regardless of the reason, I'm calmly enjoying every sweet moment of it. This is the perfect time to read, write, or program. Once I finish with this post, I'll probably go read my boards, and then finish the book I've been trying to finish for a little over a month. Yes, a month. I recall a time when I could read a book in two days. How obsessions change.

Walking home this evening, I watched the snow falling daintily in front of me, passing my hood and tumbling quietly toward the ground where my feet pressed many of them into tight clusters. There was no wind. I saw no stars, only clouds. The silence was perfect; if it were not for the music emanating from the earphones, I probably could have heard the snow creeping down the hood of my warm parka. Normally my feet press forward quickly on my way home, but not tonight. Tonight, they crept slowly, carefully, across the snow and ice until I regretfully reached my dwelling. Once there, I of course went inside, but such a large part of me seems to have stayed with the light flutter of the white sparkles and the heavily-burdened trees. Every breath I take is caught within their branches and gently shakes the collected snow to the ground.

For now, I sit here with the scene still fresh in my mind, the next best thing, and I listen to music about stalking. I also munch on some amaranth and quinoa, filling my stubbornly-growling stomach.

Now I'm going to go read up on my groups.

Crunchy Quinoa,

~nvnohi