Thoughts at 4.37 pm, 3 March 2005

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I have been quiet on the blog front these last few weeks. I am paying a steep price at work. Only within the last three years have I actually on some nights woke up from sleep, thinking about work. What have been done. Yet to be done. Ought to be done. Should have been done. I have thought of moving to another place. I have made the initial moves to move to another place. How does Morocco sounds to you? The casbah. Fez. Now try Casablanca. My favourite word in the whole wide world. Casablanca. And that is before the song. Casablanca. Casablanca. Casablanca. Try it.

Aaahhh, the song. The song always reminds me of someone. Oh oh, here we go again. Me and my memories. Is that bad? If we look in the rear view mirror too much, will we crack the grille? I don't care...... Imagine short hair, eyes that smile along each time she smiles. A butt so sexy that I can’t get my eyes off it, hahahahaha!!!!!. Simply not good for my heart. But at least I managed to wring a promise to have the shirt hang out whenever jeans are on the itinerary. But the sneakers can stay, even with a baju kurung. Because if you have to, you can really really run in sneakers. But sneakers with baju kurung? But you can’t run in a baju kurung? Yes, you can if you wear spandex. Nothing strange about that but who have heard of spandex twenty-three years ago? Somehow “Eyes” had spandex ten years before it became popular.

I have sidetracked quite a bit. Huh, Morocco. Casablanca. Butts. “Eyes”. I can dream, can’t I? I still do.

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