Pumpkin seeds aren’t bad when roasted.
My Canadian adventure continues! Today I downloaded an online game, to play with my housemate. I’m currently caught in two minds about going to the pool and buying some chocolate and visiting the pool. I’d like to swim some laps at 7.30 and spend 30 minutes in the steam room.
So there I was eating dinner, a hearty vegetable soup with some toasted bread that I made and the pumpkin seeds that I roasted, courtesy of the Halloween spirit. I added some salted sunflower seeds and used capsicum as a spoon. The taste had vim and agreed with my mood, needs and wants. I ate half the bowl, as well as all the rest-afore mentioned. Too much perhaps. I hadn’t eaten a lot that day, courtesy of study and the gym and my adventure to a new cafe – actually I had a biscuit at the cafe so maybe i’m ok. Yeah… spot on. Good. What a lovely ginger biscuit it was. A woman sat next to me and watched me read. It was strange.
I juggled the soccer ball, it was a good form day. That’s for sure.
I wonder what Megan’s younger brother’s favourite colour is.
And what would be a nice gift for her parents- a bottle of wine perhaps.
Some kind of thankyou. New York will be my opportunity no doubt.
I should get an early night tonight to prepare for the worst tomorrow, with the bus trip and excitement of reading week just 48 hours away.
Yes yes indeed. I’ve been saving myself up recently, reading has been thoroughly engaging. I have lots of people to reply to on facebook, which is no big deal. I should more properly pack my bags I think. But that can wait just a few more minutes.
Hmmm, perhaps Law will come with me to the shops. To buy chocolate.
I wonder what he’s laughing at on the computer.
I’m now smiling in reaction to his chuckling. Strange, the many faces of people. So much depth and change, its fascinating. He was a bit down last night. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or me taking some of his cheese without asking.
Or perhaps the conversation about tattoos, where I ended up laughing at the lack of their importance, their unltimately shallow relevance to anyone. Like the writing on a T-Shirt, but more and less. Because you can’t take it off. Its an attempt at permanence. Its meaning may evolve. Its unique, sure. It hurts to have, it embelishes who you are and is supposed to have profound revelatory meaning. So deep, but I would say that its just as impermanent and important as any other thing. And like you, in death its meaning is the first to be forgotten, brushed aside, shrivel and decompose into nothing; as such tatts are meaningless and only scratch the surface of all things important. Their relevance and ability to include you is just as much seen as exclusive. Its a lifelong commitment, more fixed than a family or pet. Its a commitment to yourself, a grounding aspect that marks a milestone in your life of when you thought and felt a specific way. A reminder, because the mind is fickle, and forgets things. Just as the whole body is fickle in its gradual decline breeding disillusion with dissolution and death. Alas.
But all is not lost, I don’t think he was sad because of that, the man hardly spoke in the lead up to such a monologue by me. He was quiet before. He doesn’t even have tattoos “you don’t understand” (you aren’t part of the club they say). Exclusive with me. Let me tell you.

Well, the download is complete.
My stomach feels clawed at-
Too much to eat.
And not I feel fat.