drifter

i cant figure out what went astray, i decided not to go home straight, instead i bought myself the ticket to the departed. the theater was sort of empty, so basically i own the seats within 2 meters radius, and i have definitely made myself comfortable by couching across 3 seats leaning against my dirty looking bag, the jacket was the only source of warmth, and i had the big gulp of icelemon tea as company...the malay couple two seats away was giving me that look "what an odd ball", and i repsonded with shrug that read "i dont give a damn bullshit of what you think"

and zc thought i was going crazy and i thought u know that i was getting cranky lately?

the last film i watched under the name martin scorsese was his aviator, and i still keep the stubs..i like the way frank costello, or rather jack nicholson put it in the opening, " i dont want to become the product of environment, i want the environment to become my product " and sure he did, in the bloody way, then i realised it's an M18 rate. i dont know what chemical reaction went wrong in my body, i just felt lethargic, ain't engaged, and before i lost the senses, i just want to do the things that i want to do, and dont question the rationale behind, 'cause there isnt any, i need a buffer zone...

"is your life fucked?" when sargent dignam asked billy costigan, the harsh way, i thot that was for me…I wanted to buy a cup of coffee to the street artist that was playing guitar, but I don’t have a dime in my wallet, if my role’s been switched to his, would there be someone offering me just a cup of coffee and giving me a tab on the shoulder at the end of the day?