There are days that are purely themselves. Today is one of them : working that extra hours at the start of January. The sun is dim and shy and elusive, the sky is grey as a dream, the time burning into unparallel shades of disorder and uncertainty, and several hundred thousand brain cells on every back-and-forth-facing surface of my mind, crawling and creeping and flying, the office window being pattered by the tiny ant as they walk headfirst on my desk , adding a rather strange surrounding to wake me up to this morning. It sounded like someone with a rifle was aiming for my fragile skull.

I’m temporarily brain-dead

Many things arrived this morning while sitting alone in the train heading back home after a night spent at the office : Now is the time for people with suggestions for stuff and things to do on the blog to get them in --- maybe I could set up a forum on the message board or something, I said vaguely. I know I want a mind-brawling area, and some content in the ‘coming soon’ places.

This is the kind of journal entry you can only write at leisure or pressure; and at enforced leisure, at that, because I cannot catch up on things at a certain time, so this will be a posting for a day or so. Truth to tell, I don't mind not being able to get ‘in the mood’, just as I don't mind that my cellphone is out of service where I am right now yesterday. It's a good thing that its OK now ( courtesy of my brother ). My contact with technology is just a single dinosaur-age handphone and my pc at work. I don’t do PDAs, I don’t do stylo handphones with MMS, I don’t do digicams, I don’t do anything that required confusing technical knowledge of somewhat. Its not hard … its just really hard.

So. There you go, my confession for the new world of global cybernization.

It turned very dark and cloudy today; the anticipated rain that had been hanging around the edges of things happened simply and easily and much, much too early, and I reckoned it will rain later tonight. Well, not to be a storm, exactly, but occasional rain would tumble and drenched, with a sort of " it may not look like much now, but wait until we turned heavy and wet all the land and roads " kind of quality to them.

Here . Something wise for you to read that I wish I didn't have to write. ( You may have to log in other bloggers now as mine right now is rather dull )