imagine a cat, big and charcoal gray, light gray eyes and a long thin tail. he's full and dozing off on the window sill in the winter afternoon sun. i keep getting this feeling that my mother is screaming at me from a distance. i feel disturbed. like the cat when it's rudely shoved off it's window.

i wish i had a pair of magical headphones that i could put on whenever i felt the need, that would block out everything. and i mean EVERYTHING - noise, thoughts, 'feelings', people - EVERYTHING.

we're all so emotional. we feel. we feel bad and dont usually realise it's good for us. we feel empty and never realise that it's only because we had/have something worth missing.

anyhow, what's the point in thinking? it's always just one thing after another after another.

movement. is important. but it's important to think too. before you move.

i'm gonna go have a bath.