bonjour.. reading this book titled "you shall know our velocity" by dave eggers. ok i admit, i borrowed it cos it has a lovely cover- raw cardboard with the beginning of the story engraved on it, and a black fabric spine with elegant white lettering. these are the kinds of books that the library absolutely defaces with its disgusting identification sticker, paying no heed at all to the physical texture and feel of a tribute to human communication. but i digress.

there's this line in the book, where the guy's talking about how he stores his thoughts in different corners of his mind: "i walk through my corridors and i open doors and now it's so hard to find a room unoccupied or not full of screaming clouds." i love that image, "screaming clouds". things of mist and vapour, so frail, so transient, and yet so powerful and affecting. not that i particularly empathise with his situation; don't think i've been subject to terribly compromising positions. just hope that i, or anyone i know for that matter, never get to that point. and if you find yourself stuck in that rut, feel free to whine to moi ok? not being nosy, just offering to help. who knows, someday i might need your help in rtn. till then, just trying to make everyone's time here a little less troubled