A husky French woman sings out from my computor accompanied by pretty piano notes, soft drums and subtle guitaring. A definite beat made in subtleties

Wow, what a wanky heading.
Hello!
I was listening to Johnny Cash, and then some Frenchie jazz-singin' woman, and now it's Last Dance by Dirty Three, which is a very nice song...and what's coming next...Haha Foo Fighters, omg how embarassment. Although this particular song does have some meaning to me. It's to do with something that I've already written in this post but doesn't come until after this because I'm using my powers of witchcraft to bend space and time! (/the wonders of technology). Ok, next try, mmm pretties - The Killing Moon sung by Nouvelle Vague. Anyway, while music is nice, I shan't spend this while post listening to itunes on shuffle and writing about every song that comes on (although that might be interesting to try one time, at least to me). I'm starting to like Tegan and Sara more now. I didn't at first, but they're growing on me.
My blog has a new template. Much nicer, methinks.
Me also thinks that there is so much to be had in life it's getting increasingly difficult just to waste it by doing things half-heartedly. This year has been an amazing one for me so far, pretty much exactly from the moment it began. My life is actually becoming what I've always wanted it to be. And I now seem to have a more of an ability to do things - internal things, that is, things which are sort of hard to communicate because they are experienced and also seem unrelated but are soemwho connected...Let me try to explain. Before, I just did not seem to have the ability to do things, even though I so so wanted to. Things like...it's hard to explain. Examples: I used to find it really hard to do uni work because I would get all disillusioned at the fact that there was so much to do that I just didn't have time to do, and so I'd end up hating it and doing nothing. But I used my newfound skill of just sitting with this feeling and also wanting to find a solution to it and over a period of time it worked out. Although I've done the whole wanting to find a solution to something and trying for it before, it's never worked like it do this time. So now I'm much better at doing my uni work. Or another example: When inspired to do things with more love, it isn't so much of a desperate yearning to be able to do it without being able to consciously do it now, but I seem to be able to actually do it when I decide to. I don't know how much sense this makes, but basically, where last year I was actually unable to do certain things (I know that term is debateable, but that was effectively how it was) I am now more able. It's really quite awesome. The other night I did a bit of 'jamming' on my flute with Arcade Fire, and though it was nothing too impressive, I actually played stuff, which I wouldn't have been able to do a few months ago (and it's not because of pracitise in fluting, since I haven't played the flute in quite some time). Also, I draw a bit now. I know I'm not the best, laregly because I haven't practiced much, I suppose, but I've just started from what I seem to have an inkling towards - curly lines of sorts - and just accepted that and gone from there. It's nice. I made my first proper thing a little bit ago and I'm quite proud of it. I've made a few things that may not seem like much, but make me very proud, and, when I think about it more and remember why I could do them, very grateful. I have some amazing people in my life who may not think that the way they live and the things they say are of that much consequence, but who have been so important to helping me live better. Love. One person in particular, who is also probably the only person who reads this.
Now I'm going to try and reflect on crazy old Kristeva and then write about Dominic Andreas the hallucinating taxi driver, while listening to The Velocity of Saul at the Time of His Conversion on loop, at least for a while. Goodday

You change all the lead sleeping in my head

"The hardest knot is but a meandering string; tough to the fingernails, but really a matter of lazy and graceful loopings. The eye undoes it, while clumsy fingers bleed" (Nabokov, in The Real Life of Sebastian Knight)

Last night I watched Pan's Labyrinth. Then I went outside and looked at the night, and a rather bright shooting star materialised and disappeared again in the corner of my eye. After I'd finished making a wish it happened a second time and I got to wish some more. Then I imagined fairies on the roses and they felt so real. Then I looked at the moon through the tiniest hole possible between my curled fingers and the palm of my hand, and it was only then that i resolved the violence of the film in my head and came to understand it better. The night's (and a continuity of the strings of coincidences it had with the day) legacy: a heightened ability to write, because writing is so inextricably intertwined with an ability to life. The story I'm writing at the moment is about man in his early twenties who is a night time taxi driver, which was supposed ot be a temporary job but has gone on much longer than intended because the woman who was pregnant with his child and he was supposed to marry (she was sixteen) disappeared (left him?), and now he hallucinates her, and talks to himself a way that is harmless but still disconcerting to his passengers. He has a strangely heightened sense of light, and falls in love with a transexual male wearing a gold sequined dress like the sun.
I was waiting in a line the other day and a little girl, three or four, stood in front of me, looked up at me with this smile on her face, and then hugged my legs.
I finished an assignment the other day almost a full twenty four hours before it was due, and I'm doing another one now that I was half way through yesterday (Monday) and isn't due until Friday!
Baibai :)