There's a rhythm deep inside of you and you must get reacquainted
This week I've come to appreciate the small things in life. Small things like (while on the train) tapping the shoulder of a stranger to tell her that the book she was perusing is your favorite book ever, or finding tasty guava juice in a can (because canned nectars always taste like metal and/or spit), or discussing craziness with a good friend near a fountain in the city at twilight (and realizing that you will dearly miss her when she moves), or eating cookie dough with a young friend (because the cooked stuff doesn't quite cut it when you're hungry), or spilling your guts to a livejournal (because it takes to long to say all of this in person).