i suppose it somewhat exhilarates me to have found a real person you’ve just met for about five minutes and then suddenly out of the blue, to be talking about iranian films and the underlying themes, or about time and being, time and space, spools, a multitude of books, phi-lo-so-phy, the velvet underground, iggy pop, amelie, memento, trainspotting, doc martens, the strokes, perfect day, sunday morning, dissing sophia coppola, calling lost in translation cynical, but i thought it was beautifully existential, phoenix, alex turner, koreans and their loss of identity, germans, london, streets and houses, winona ryder’s hair, wes anderson, uitm, ptptn, typography, bjork, writing, travelling, the art of getting by and how it parallels your humble narrator a trifle bit, black swan and her descent into madness, mila kunis, aerosmith, walking, for hours without end, only to be interrupted by our exit, our journey towards north.
let them ripe.
perkaraperkara 