Cirupabarrupptai:
telling the chieftain a travelogue of the heart

I won't fear love.
I won't fear love.

Hearts I have broken
and hands and words that have broken mine.
The only strangers here
are the ones I already know.

I won't fear love.
I won't fear love.

- From the Iyari by Sharanya Manivannan

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This morning I woke up from a rather restless sleep to see the sky dripping away and the sky awash with grey. My first thought was "oh thank goodness, it's a Sunday... (and somewhere at the back of my mind thinking no one got wet for founder's day)" and then a minute later I realised it was still Saturday and everyone was wet, and I was still sniffling in bed.

For some reason I felt strangely inspired by the weather and a feeling of peace within me (it must be the sleep I'm getting now) and finally decided to open by the chapbook I bought from Books Actually last year. I had been wandering in some distant corner of the shop near the James Joyce pencils and had found the little book wedged between some other obscure poets, selling for $12. I felt so afraid it would crumble in these tiny white sweaty palms of mine and had to set it down to rest every few minutes while waiting for Nicholas and Daryl (dear Alchemist! You must go there sometime if you haven't been there already).

For months I refused to touch it, because I felt like it was some precious jewel which should only be read with a clear mind and heart to fully appreciate it. And then I read it today, which isn't very special at all. I should have read it yesterday. Yesterday was a special day because it happens once every 4 years. March 1st isn't special at all. Oh dear.

But I completely digress. Her blog is wonderful and she even has a story there for reading which I find myself drawn to.

Oh dear, thinking about the great amount of work that rather impatiently awaits me makes me feel un-peaceful now. Maybe I should go watch another film later, like Annie Hall (but I don't like Woody Allen. I don't like anyone who cheats on their partners or the third parties involved, which is why I don't like Scarlett Johanson, Sienna Miller, Jude Law, Brad Pitt and even *gasp!* Angelina Jolie [to an extent, I don't think anyone could really 100% dislike her]). I also watched Dial M for Murder yesterday and Hitchcock's use of shadows really impressed me (I'm not sure why I'm even saying this, I'm not qualified to be some kind of film critic in any way, I just noticed it and observed it throughout the film - it made me think of a stage setting for a play).

Hot pancakes for lunch beckon! (I don't know, my dad's sudden spontaneous idea which I had no part in at all, but get to reap the benefits)