This week, somewhat oddly, it took me 40 minutes to get to work, due to the shameful state of traffic in this otherwise fabulous(?) city. Odd; usually its 17 minutes. Some odd impulse seized my brother this month to change his job, move in with me and now I have someone waiting for me at home everyday.

Odd.

As you can see, a few hormones talking today; thank you for the oppressive sultriness that makes everything becomes unbearable. The muggy rainy condition makes me stay mostly inside this week, performing such domesticities.

I guess saying a million things but never really say anything is becoming a hobby. That "So, tell me about you" question had me quelled my natural instinct to answer it, like thats understandable only to me, myself though inwardly I relished the fact that I could make someone feel anxious, quite thrilled by the attention.

As I sit here waiting for the air conditioner to cool my room, it occurs to me I have no idea what goes on in people's heads or hearts apart from my own. Does that turn me into the kind of person who doesnt give a flying fuck about what people think? Maybe I trust my own judgement that i dont rely on how people around me react to me in order to define myself. Hm.

An ex-intern shared a glimpse of myself on his blog. Not quite sure if this is a compliment or not. I love this naive super skinny boy, I do.