I am bone tired. The past two days have sapped me. The city, its lights, Yarra river, flames, horse-drawn carriages, tired animals, poor beasts, nipped at me, broke my heart, Malaysian pak ciks wanting to buy bikes, just hanging out by the river listening to Chopin as we waited for hellfire, parties on boats, the bridges, the water, talking of Nolan, beautiful winds, man with the telescope, the Moon, Saturn, Orion, star-strewn sky, street performers: old man with violin in China town,  guy in bunny suit shredding on an electric guitar, guy in a daffy duck suit playing electric bagpipes, easyway, party at laura's, couple fighting in the tram, random dreams about aathiyyasen, open house this morning, girls chatting, how disappointing, twins of faith, God, sheikhs, dark skinned women wrapped in hijabs, bearded middle-eastern men, beautiful syrians, iranians, africans, kids in caps, skinny jeans, shades and kicks, crying babies, excited children, little italy, ice cream mahal, kopitiam mahal, more beautiful breeze, walking alone along the cobbled pathway at night, woman sleeping at my doorstep, more talking. Just crowds upon crowds upon crowds. 

I give up. On talking I mean. I'll tag along but don't expect me to say anything. Nothing substantial anyway. I slip sometimes and say shit and they start to think I'm the 'discerning type' but I don't know man, I've enough disappointments on my plate already, know what I mean? I don't need any of this.

p.s. "A world without Eternity." and that ayah about rivers are the two things that resounded with me today. Everything else was good but I simply can't stand having to maneuver myself through social conventions. Being polite tires me out but I'm awkward. If I'm not polite, I might as well be a brick wall.