Ate a spartan dinner and watched the French movie Amèlie de Montmartre. Then I made the mistake of playing a seventies song when continuing doing graphics in Photoshop. Suddenly, passion welled up and I cried. I guess I set myself up.
I realize the tough front I’m keeping up crumbles when it comes to matters of love. Having been badly burned twice, I’ve focused on irrelevant stuff. I guess I’m a closet romantic. Which usually means a fool with dreams. Well, the world could certainly need more of those, and less Paris Hilton coverage. The last sentence is just for search engines so everyone will find my blog. Hah.
Anyway, suffice to say I decided to inject some more passion into my life, starting from this day. Perhaps lady luck will favor me; I shaved my beard a few months back and got a tan from the warm Swedish summer sun, so I don’t look so much like a would-be fellon anymore. :P