This is but one of the two days I of the week I live; the other five are spent locked in a time bubble - along with the hundred or so others who share it, though their perceptions might not.


It's sort of scary. Hibernation, it could be referred to as; and one doesn't know if one will wake up next spring or 200 years into the future where everything is different.


It's a good thing that proper manners and discipline can be ignored on Facebook.


This is life in my Third Universe. Grass is always greener on the other side, no?


But I've had enough of being depressed. I'm laughing. I'm seeing both sides of it now, and I'll respond to the better one and ignore the other.


Haydn and Vivaldi on two cellos isn't making life any easier. It just mirrors the external mood by its rigidity.


And that's why we need violins, I guess. A dash of style and virtuosity to colour the lives of the lower string players, complementing the more serious and powerful, but less agile cellos and basses. And haven't I been looking for that all my time as a cellist? Indeed.


Don't understand me? Never mind. I'm talking cock. Just don't quote me.


(That was a quote.)


Now is the time, for the tortoise to make good use of its shell.


Early in the morning we rise. Early we leave consciousness to rejuvenate ourselves for the next revelation of the sun's bright face.


I shun the light and heat of day. The sun is merciless.


There is no fear in light or in darkness. Night brings me strength, and weariness falls from me as I face it.


And there are other things I don't feel like writing about today.


Only this: What I have thought is confirmed, and things are going as planned. Badly, that is, but unavoidable. They will be better - if things continue to go as planned.


I will laugh when I can, and wait. If one cannot avoid strikes, one defends, and waits for the exit of the threat.