Man, I feel so awfully fat. like, there's a lump of fat in my gullet or something, waiting to be dissolved. sheesh. must be all the haagen daaz and what-not, cake, especially, i've been eating. anyone who goes out with me, please tell me to exercise, please, man. sheesh.

that's what being a clerk is all about, slacking, sleeping, getting fat. OCS boys don't kill me now. exercise is good for you.

on a lighter note, wen en's house is great for musical inspiration. if anything, it's quiet, and it just makes you feel, well, posh, great for writing sit-down-by-the-poolside lounge music. because you can just imagine it being played there. and the piano is fabulous. i must definitely go there more often. the walk in can be my exercise. yay.


often i feel incoherently bad, and socially inept. i used to be skeptical when people said there's a left-brain, that controls logic and speech, and a right-brain, that controls music and e arts/visual. and like, now it's all right-brain. i'm hearing songs in my head with my right-brain, pitching well, everything, but everything turns to dust when i open my mouth to speak. i don't speak, i splutter, like, 'beagaghagkdalgha' and like everyone is 'waht'? 'what's the point?' sheesh. okayyy mebbe the connections isn't working well. must be the fat, huh.

okay so blame it on the fat. i MUST MUST get down to some jogging.