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so damn fucked
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being in between jobs only mean one thing which loathes me no end: time.

or rather, an excess of it.

for the past two weeks or so, i've been suffering insomnia which end only when i fall head first into my bed, exhausted, at 7 in the morning.

the dark hours are always spent intrigued in front of the telly, with DVD covers astrewn. i am glad to report that i've seen a few memorable titles, namely cruel intentions and secretary.

otherwise, i am weaving in and out of sanity in an inebriated stupor, filling out my notebook with long incoherent scribbles.

i have crossed paths with someone who hails from exotic and far-flung spain (chorizo! paella!). intelligent, unbearably articulate, soft-spoken and comfortably sarcastic, it is unfortunate that i still pine for a certain balding motherfucker when really, i should be seeing more of this spanish gentleman.

time, wherefore art thou when i need you most?

and now i shall watch edward norton and brad pitt bare their knuckles in fight club. woohoo.

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UPDATE AT 4.20AM :

Fight Club is SO bloody good.

"I want YOU to hit me as hard as you can."