Reciclam cuvinte

What was it that the wise people of our day said, in one of those remotely embarassing chain letters? That for every ray of sunshine god kills a kitten? Or was it something about guys doing... erm... you know... and it reflecting reprobably on puppies? Whatever. All cutsey things should DIE mwhahah...
I'm still haunted by cellos and dubious tram expeditions. And there's this dumb expectation that something positively amazing will happen in the next few days. It's so lame to actually sit on your bee-hind and wait for something to happen, to come to you, when you should go out there and cut down a tree and kill a little old lady while she's crossing the street... I have an inkling that this wasn't exactly it, either.
I feel displaced. Today a blonde woman of an uncertain age was gravitating around my head, and I was answering her questions as if my voice came from some other body.
I'm facing 4 months of doing diddly squat. If only the cellos would get out of my friggin head, then this holiday will be exactly and lamely alike the last one. I want a properly round and yellow moon for to howl at...