I've got my eye on you.

Define "want."

Now, what if it was an item within reach? 

What shall I do, where shall I look?

Like that man sitting across me on the train, I'm at crossroads again.

He is twiddling his thumbs, his eyes are darting up and down. He chews on his lip like it is gum. I wonder what's on his mind. Of course I don't really know whether he's stuck in a rut too. I'm not psychic, I don't have ESP, and I'm not a mind reader (Do I want to be one? No, I think I'm mad enough). I just said that because well - Misery loves company.

I wonder if he's annoyed that the girl next to me is twiddling her toes. It's pissing ME off, but I'm trying my best to ignore it because who knows if that damnit-lady-stop-fidgeting! activity is actually evidence of a mental or neurological problem.

Instead, I keep my eyes focused on the board above the man's head, but after five minutes - or maybe it's five seconds - I feel like if I stare any harder, the laminate might start peeling off. My gaze falls a meter down and lands squarely on him. I feel that he might be uncomfortable, he might even think I'm checking him out! So the gaze drops to his shoes but oh goodness me he needs to chuck those sneakers. They're ratty, they're grey and not at all cool in that street-chic way, no they're falling apart, like meat that's been stewed too long in a big, iron pot. Only meat stew is delicious. My eyes flick up, and I remember what so-and-so told me in drama class mum enrolled me in when I was 11 (to boost my confidence, I was painfully shy)...keep eyes trained between the brows - Wait, n0, what!? That's what you do when you're speaking to someone and don't want to stare at him in the eye. If you look at a person between his brows, just above the bridge of his nose, it looks like you're maintaining good eye contact.

At this point I've put so much thought into where to look whilst sitting on the train, that hey I've forgotten about toe-twiddling girl. I look to the left. She's left.

Click, click GAT.

I like quiet weekends. But for the most part, I guess I really do prefer to be out and about. 

Next up! Halloween. I have my pink wig. Now I just need to figure out who, or what I want to be. 

Girl about town.

He's swaying, lush lips in a pleased smile. Drunk, he's been downing those beers since the break of dawn, now he's on to a heady rush of Red Bull and Belvedere vodka. Man about town.

Music thumps, heads spin. Girl in plaid jumps around in shiny Mary-Janes, a veil clutched in her hands. Raised arms, Chun Li flying kick, spirit fingers!!! She's crazy, she's brilliant, all eyes on her. Excitable, gung ho bunny.

Hands and legs, entangled, in a wrap. Messy hair, shirt pulled this way, that way, a fallen strap. Two joined by a kiss, a too-long exchange of saliva and bacteria. Mmm away you two, stumble into a room before we sweep you off with a broom. The couple - dating, or strangers - in a limbo.

Bleached hair, pale eyebrows, canary-coloured dress, remarkably orange tan down her neck, her arms, long sinewy legs and veiny feet squashed in mustard platform D'orsays. A walking tube of Berocca.

Fizzle schizzle. We're nocturnal, creatures of the night - sans bared fangs and a lust for sticky red - you and I.

Dear so-and-so.

I feel it, can you feel it, there's something in the air. 

- The Feeling, Peter Bjorn and John.

Some things you can sense -  you realise that the person's face isn't difficult to read at all. In fact, the ones who give you that smile, half or wide, are really, more often than not, full of bullshit.

And this boils down to distrust. 

Who trusts who, who distrusts who - because damnit, it all seems so contrived and fallacious. 

And cringe. I CRINGE because everything we do these days seems to be a big, fucking fallacy.

Let's go shopping for furniture.

Untitled.

Funny but not so funny because it's not really funny at all. Funny how funny you've become, and funny how funnily petty this sounds. It can't be oblivion, oblivion is funny, but funny is not so oblivious, funny how funny should make you laugh, and funny how there's not a giggle to be heard. Funny how many times the word "funny" has been used, funny how funny. And funny, how funny, strangely funny, see a stranger now, not a person but a stranger, how odd, how strange, how funny, funny, funny.