partly cloudy skies. low 40F.

on laurel canyon: a submersion into the unnerving whims of the human heart and the relentless (but often futile) effort to control it, placing you in that ostensibly bright but truly grey -- misty grey -- canyon where reason and insanity blur for miles. 9.0/10

a pity: the insidious class profiling at boyd's

a recompense: the aqua-gowned eye candies at boyd's

weekend plans: penn spring fling, bday karaoke party, swat fun fair and hopefully some long-awaited dim sum

a fancy: another kogepan respite

shuffled on my shuffle: you'll follow me back with the sun in your eyes / and on your own / bedshaped / and legs of stone you'll knock on my door / and up we'll go in white light