what is this finicky finicky thing in me? how can one not live and feel intensely and be so aware of this intensity of living that it cuts into you. it's in the sudden nuances when your mind sails on a higher plane for a second or two and you spend the rest of the minute trying to get back to that plane - that is when you try to grasp that intensity, like a flavour, like a prick. how we are made like this, it is a miracle indeed. thou shalt not judge, for you will never know others fully. you will never be able to get on their higher planes thus you will always remain on the outside. there are some people who charm you, who are so amazing and you want to steal bits of them, not for yourself, but because you want to get on their higher plane for a second or two. it is the joy of being human, the human narrative that i am always trying to grasp for pure pleasure of knowing and feeling. it is quite a jolt, quite a magnifique moment, these sudden pricks.

Christmas is too far away. i'm listening to ally mcbeal's christmas albums, for the dreamy feeling i get at Christmas. i'm getting one of those moments. vigour and rigour, i must drench myself with.