Bird's poem.

"Kindness is a language the deaf can hear
and the blind can see." - Mark Twain

I woke up at 8am, what a crazy start already. I was told to do my tax-thingy (I still have no idea how any of that shit works) at 12 so I had a good 4 hours to kill. I spent a good chunk of my morning walking around the house and eventually I sat on the piano bench, I can't even remember the last time I played the piano, I've forgotten a majority of my songs and my motor skills aren't anywhere near as good as they were before. It's hard to keep a minor passion lit, I forget songs faster than I learn them and I'm trying to play again but there's nothing driving me anymore. I think my arrogance in high school was what kept me jammin'. There's no more Ronnie, John, Neilson and Liam anymore and it's sad to know that the only thing that made me enjoy the piano was the natural competitive atmosphere in the music room. At first, I felt there was a certain miracle in knowing that you can play your favorite song on the piano, no matter what that song was, whether it was by ear or by an official arrangement and at the time, I thought that was one of the greatest things ever, I still do but it's getting harder and harder to maintain that view when there're so many songs I want to learn.

Spent the rest of the day working at the ol' Skylard friendly grocer then I saw a Volkswagen UP at Thanh Tan which reminded me of Hong then I ate some Pho, got home, slept at like, 8pm woke up at like, 2am typing this shit up. That's enough out of me :L I'll take my leave now. Sleep deliciously, you bored, bored bastard.

Edit 1:  lol, Andy sleep-farts, it's pre' bad.