So I sat in this evening, feeling slightly sorry for myself, watching crap movies on usb sticks (terrible sound/picture alignment, and now refusing to work on the mac) and drinking a bit of red. I'd intended to make dinner, but after a large curry lunch from the legendary Lulu's supermarket, it didn't seem so necessary, so a large batch of popcorn sufficed.
Without getting in to details, I was all lined up for a good spot of wallowing.
And then I happened upon facebook, and read my cousin's status. He wrote:
"I am the book you'll never read
but carry forever
one blunt page garlanded
by daughter or lover
You already know two-thirds by heart
and I'm passing weighty for a work so short."
Hallmark cheesy? Perhaps. But he lost his mother, my aunt, last year. Which makes the cynicsm evaporate somewhat. And suddenly all my petty miseries and self indulgent whininess just had to evaporate.
Life isn't peaches and cream. I would rather it was. I still believe in dreams, and I still have faith in things I know are unrealistic and probably unobtainable. But that's ok.
peace out.
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