the methods and means of procrastination

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cosy with pom-pom friz
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There is this beautiful little sparrow flying around my porch. I noticed him when a bit of dark wing fluttered, like the hair on a lens, or lint on the edge of your vision. He is perfect. He is as beautiful a bird as a bird usually is. The shape is so balanced and curved. Danty or self-contained in mass. And so frighten when I leered out the window at him.


I think I'm doing homework, except I'm not. I have a package design that will take very little to do, and yet I put it off. The weather has dropped from 70 to 40 in a span of an hour. We've gone from shorts to long-sleeves in the matter of morning to afternoon. Guru is off copying things, hoping to roll into the thesis again soon. I'm debating about giving money to the pottery barn so they will give me curtins for my bedroom. Why? Because the bedsheets we have up there now look so bad. Wish we had taste. Hell, wish we could fight the wave of lethargy that over takes us during our free time.

wasting time. will write later.

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