Do you think to kill me?

There's no flesh and blood within this cloak to kill. There is only an idea. Ideas are bulletproof.

-V for Vendetta

*

A new year, and I've never felt more different. I don't know what it is. Wake up every weekday to do something that does not make me happy, wait for the next fulltime job with hope but a large dose of cynicism, brewing plans in the cauldron of my mind, butterflies in my stomach from possibilities, clinging onto old but always fresh fantasies of greece, spain, japan, and magic, more than ever, understanding more about the world and the un-world and myself and what I am to become, thinking of all my plans, plans, plans of which some may never bubble and some will. And the first meal of the year was The Elvis. It's going to be a good year.

*

I haven't slept well in three weeks, and am hardly allowed access to dreamland. Listening to MR. CHILDREN's 深海 restores some hope in men. One hardly meets them but I do everyday. The fruit uncle downstairs who has no favourite fruit.

Dive into the big blue sea!

Why is it so hard to find a sea around here to dive into?

Why don't we have a deep dark wood?

And John, because I can't ask my Mummy or Papa, why can't we lie down somewhere at night and look at the stars?

Lastly, what is the meaning of breasts and pubic hair?