I'm back in Malaysia. Sure feels good to be home, to stay in my own room again. Is it just me, or are flights getting more and more boring? I spent the whole flight doing a bloody crossword puzzle. Even the movies suck. The only movie perhaps worth watching was maybe Starsky and Hutch, but the thing is I've already seen that movie. I mean, come on, "Girl Next Door"?? I'd rather watch the bloody Teletubbies smother each other with pillows.
Forgive the moaning and the excessive use of somewhat foul language. I've been reading Vernon God Little, a good read, maybe I'll do a lil review when I'm done with it.
Latest read: "I'm not scared" by Niccolo Ammaniati. A good book for those trying to recapture the lost beauty of childhood. It's translated into English from an Italian text, so I suppose some of its magnificence must have been lost in the process. Nevertheless the translator manages to capture the essence of the childhood terrors and thoughts that make that period of our lives the so wondrous. 3* out of 4.
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