Because a string of detailed words don’t necessarily have to describe my days.
Friday night:
How I Met Your Mother (Season 1, Epis 16-22). Conversations from 12am till 6am. Tequila shots. Guys night out. Stayed overnight.
Revelations.
Talking in the dark.
To friendship.
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I told Jess on Saturday night when we were leaving Old Taste Kopitiam. After that semi-drunken Friday night I made up my mind and prepared a short mental speech. But for some odd reason I was nervous as hell – the usual drama llama of pulsating heartbeats – and that short mental speech became an even more concise single sentence that spelled things out to the point, without the unnecessary low-beat drumroll that leads to what I really meant to say.
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Five for Fighting – Superman
An old song that I’m not bored of listening to over the years because simply, it delivers – the music, the lyrics, the entire package of vulnerable heroes and classical sentimentality rolled up into a 3-minute plus song.
It may sound absurd, but don’t be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed, but won’t you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me
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» Haruki Murakami - The Wind-up Bird Chronicle