what is and where i end and you begin

startfile...

this delirium is... tasty

i've been feeling far too solid for quite a while now

now i'm feeling warm and as if i should be comfortable up against hard, thick, lightly coloured wood.

on sydney road today i saw a man who looked like a pirate. He was very tall (so much that sim thought he might have platforms on), had realy cool hair (all dredded and pirate like) and was wearing some kind of piratish hat on his head. He was dressed all in black with some kind of large black pants on.
the funny thing was his voice
it was in such contrast to his appearance: brutish and pirate-like to high pitched and camp voice.

i liked the feel in the air today it's warm but light at the same time. like.... not humid but warm, and sort of refreshing as well. on the tram i felt groggy and completely out of touch with my surroundings. light headed etc. but it was a refreshing feeling.

again on sydney road, after having bought wazza's hookah, i looked at a building across the street; what a sight, the sign on the building was lit brightly from the sun on to it creating a sharp straight line of darkness where the buildings over the other side ofthe street cast their shadow upon it. the sign was shiny, but in the background was a rich (i was going to say watercolour painting) but i will say 'gradient' instead, going from dark grey to darkish, intense blue, to a pale, breathtaking, sort of shocking pale blue. interposing the gradient rich sky was a rainbow, emerging slowly through the drizzling grey rainy warm atmosphere.
i could taste moisture in the air
in front of the sign, and the building was a street light. one moment i looked at it, it was on, the next, off...

these colours combined to further deepen my awe at the myriad of astoundingly vivid colours surrounding my insignificant organism. on this wonderful, drizzly, warm, fresh day.

below are some points i forgot to mention when i originally wrote this entry:

• i felt fresh and new, as if, as has happened before, i was seeing everything from a fresh, childlike perspective.
• it was as if my sensory cynicism had dissapeared. (i have a sort of theory that as we grow older, our senses become accustomed to the world around us and the things we see (as the sights we see each day are often SO similar, not just sights mind you) and so become 'cynical'.
  
• it felt like there was more i should have said in this section but i can't really think of anything except- don't disregard the bit about the tasty delirium and the fact that i've been feeling to solid recently as fluffy poetry; it's not.