creep

A number of exchanges took place in the past 24hrs which alerted me to the possibility of something I feel neither able nor inclined to entertain whole-heartedly. That is not to say that said possibility is at all unpleasant. It is just that once again my over-developed analytical faculties get in the way of cute cheap thrills.

Brain is nearing shut-down but must remain conscious 'til 3am to pick up returning Bruneian lodger from airport. Figured this'd be a slightly less painful alternative to dragging myself up just as the slumber gets sweet.

Driving alone late at night with windows down and poor-me music blasting has to be one of my more masochistic indulgences. Still, I wonder whether an Agreeably-Occupied Front Passenger Seat could ever constitute a legitimate goal-in-life? If not, it should.

Earlier this evening there had been a Brokeback Mountain screening (read: deliberate self-inflicted wallow-fest) for two, followed by brief karaoke (in our defence, we went out on Don't Dream It's Over so it was all very empowering, or something). I was at once disturbed and embittered by his being a better cryer than I.