“kitsch is the inability to admit that shit exists”

Like a mimosa. The twitch, and the recoil at the (s)lightest touch. Shrinking away and curling up. But give him time - a little space - and he will open up.

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Like a mimosa. Feels like that description needs some work, but I've been thinking about it all week now after playing with some mimosa while sitting around in the field (for those who think this is a pleasant experience obviously the word 'outfield' does not hold the same connotations for you as it does for me. Read: you probably have never been in the army).

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I just went to Universal Studios Singapore the previous weekend, and once again I am reminded of why theme parks are awesome. Not that USS was particularly good as a theme park: there were only about 3 rides worth riding again, and the water show was a direct rip from Universal Studios in Australia.

Anyway, I love theme parks because you get the experience of walking through life with a theme song blasting in the back ground. Especially if you walk through the Lost World segment of the theme park, just as the swell of the motif hits the climax, you feel like a total boss.

If I had a soundtrack to my life, it would be composed by John Williams. Or maybe Nobuo Uematsu. Or Joe Hisaishi. Or a collaboration of all of them (though I'm not so sure their styles are compatible). And the narrator would be Morgan Freeman. Or Sameul L Jackson.