Music.

I was at McDonalds Commonwealth, QC earlier tonight.
While gulping down a Coke and eating surprisingly delicious McSpaghetti, a bunch of ably dressed teenagers came in- one with a guitar, one with a beatbox, and one with a violin.
They sat down in one corner and began to play "Breathless" by the now-defunct Irish band the Corrs.
As expected, the outlet's manager walked over to the group's "handler" (this lady in a blazer), and asked for a permit.

The lady was not able to produce any.
Ergo, the group was escorted off the premises.

I've been to the US and there are street performers all over the place.
You can't blame the staff at McDonald's. They were just doing their job.
I'm guessing the kids needed to raise money for something- hopefully something worthwhile.
While surprising, and legally off tangent, such can be considered to be better than those people who just walk up to you at food courts and ask for money while holding out some sort of a business card.

Just thought I'd share some of the sights and sounds of my evening.

Underpass

My circadian rhythm's been all over the place.

Fire. Ice. Grace.

Another round of this

This daily grind

To some

A daily malaise

Going Out

Go out to Katipunan Avenue at night and observe the students milling about.

Why do all of them look the same?

Wide eyed, dreamers, haggard from their last bout with reality, with academic ogres with sabers?

Am I glad I have graduated from that, to this?

Not really.

Sometimes I wish I were once again a wide-eyed dreamer with more guts than brains.

Those days, at least, possessed more zim than today's humdrum number-infested cycles of 24.

The Death of Reason

I don't get it. I just don't get it.

Why does life keep repeating itself?

I've got a gig, yeah, but it is not the most stable thing, says the man.

The car's being driven by madness on stilts, yeah.

Here I am with a pot belly, a whole lot of things-doing and the death of clues and rhyming time.

Here's some chicken on a plate.

Hate.

So much hate.

Embraced.

What's a man to do but become unhinged?

And wonder.

Why wait?