:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Sunday, November 10, 2002 ::

I'm reduced to ::this:: mean of action-delineating, since my usual method, < > brackets, register as html tags. With that...

::Groan::
Waa-aay too much DanceDancing today. Yesterday, and to a lesser extent, however, were little islands of music appreciation that enhearten me. It's been a decent night when you fall asleep to "When You Sleep" by every music nerd's magic words, and when you wake up whistling "Venus." Not a classical music fan? Download that song (forgive me, gods of classical music; the internet is the worst source of classical music ever. Where else, save small pockets of the South, will one see Fur Elise attributed to our dear friend Mozart?) and wait four minutes. The cello ought to give you enough reason to change your mind.

In the meantime, I seek the live version of Portishead's Glorybox. SO FUCKING GOOD. In any case, it looks like work-berefit, music-filled evening. Will I do something productive? Sure. As soon as all these kids get the hell out of my room. G.I.R. The singing won't stop, will it. ::sigh::

I'm so tired / of playing / of playing with this bow-and-arrow / I'm gonna give my heart away / leave it to the other girls to play // For I've been a temp-er-ess / too long...

Yes. ::evil grin::


:: Aziz 12:37 AM [+] ::
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