let lemons be angry

Here I am waiting for gmail to send four mod/oliver twisty london girls to the man behind mademoiselle blanche. It feels surreal to say something that sounds this nonsensical. This day has felt most surreal, watching amelia's hair turn Fifth Element red and reading margaret atwood till i was inspired to buy the book. Yesterday too was surreal in the cinematic sense: three of us sat in mos burger facing a glass panel that had towel wipe marks across it in grey rainbows, and we talked in circles about the sadder things in life. We had spent the day lounging and eating in places right out of jordi labanda drawings, but the scenery of the fast food queue and the dirty glass was what finally unravelled us.

..

There are a few things of puzzlement to me now. One is the friendship between my two mickey mouse guppies. I used to have only one, and it swam alone around the plant just like the sole angelfish. But ever since we got the second mickey mouse guppy, the two have been inseparable. They hide in the plant together, they rest on the pebbles together, they make their tank rounds together. My question is: how did they know they are of the same kind? Perhaps it's something like the way Mowgli in the Jungle Book saw the little village girl and instantly knew that this was his species. But then again, Mowgli had long arms and legs that he could see. My little guppies don't have extended body parts to identify and recognise. They swim with their foreheads thrusted forward and never see their own stubby tails. If it's instinct then, why, I like that very much.

Another big puzzle is my passion. I don't seem to have one. I have hobbies, but I can put those aside for other hobbies anytime. I have done fun this and that; that is different from saying i do this and that. And maybe it's okay to search every day of my life for that one passion. As long as the people around me know that i am still who i am, whatever i do this month.