'tu es mal-poli'

So, you know those days you're just tickling, bristling with the prickles of joy (probably the result of those damned endorphins or the like), and you cannot help but overflow with giggles at random instances?

I'm there.

I'm bounce-dancing seated on my bed chez mon pere, listening to Yelle (crazy-sexy French popstress); I close my eyes from time to time to see the shadows move on the backs of my eyelids; I imagine God over and over. I've been feeling lately that I can see the path more clearly, but the effort that needs to be put into this living thing is intimidating, to say the least. I know little, en comparaison to the path.

But here I am, bounce bounce giggle. The smell of pathchouli incense, dreams of movement, movement, dreams of murder-mystery series, dreams of monsters under the stairs, dreams of self that spreads and spreads like smoke...

I am ready to go off the edge.