The campus is nearly empty.

Most people have gone home for the turkey festival- I mean, thanksgiving. Honestly, as a person who has no religions, I don't understand what's going on. Is thanksgiving just another excuse for families to gather and have some extra-large meals, as if the food is not greasy and fat enough up here? Maybe it is something like mid-autumn festival in our beloved Chinese culture. Don't know. I might sound like someone who's jealous of those who can actually go home and meet up with their families after going away from home for, uh, a month. I just want them to know how much they are missing- no queues in the dining hall (yes I know there shouldn't really be queues at homes either), chances to daydream alone at the dining hall quietly, without lots of background noise ranging from laughing to dropping plates and forks (yes, it's not like I don't daydream when there are people around anyway)... blah. It just feels peaceful again. I like this feeling, when I am kind of alone, but not completely alone- of course I have never said I would die of boredom if I lived completely alone. The 2000 (I am still have no damn clue how many people are around on campus- there are just too many. My brain has some better things to do) students who live in residence suddenly, yet quietly disappear, until maybe 100 or 200, or even less of us are left. I find it funny how people just disappear in a snap's time. 'Snap'. Gone. 'Snap, snap'. More gone. In a blink's time I feel so much better. I am in a sense socially impaired maybe, but well who cares?

Yesterday- no, today. No. Yesterday. Anyway here's the story: due to the weird stains on the outside of my window, I rarely lift my curtains up. I mean, I asked the maintainence to kinda help me out cleaning- but it seems like they either don't understand English, or think I can manage to somehow float in the air, lifting myself 6 or 7 meters to clean my pretty windows. So, where was I? I feel like Polonius (that I call the post-Hamlet-personal-character-disorder). Yes, I rarely lify my curtains up. But then that one single day I have decided just to take a look at my windows after two days of rain, hoping the raindrops might have eaten the ice cream on the outside of my window, and guess what I saw? Well, the ice cream was still there, undoubtfully, but that's not the point. Now imagine you were me, and I was watching a theatre play, and the, well, window frame's the proscenium (someone tell me how to spell this word) arch/frame/whatever that is in English (shit, I need to know that for one of my theatre course's mid-term...). Anyway, then from stage right, slowly there was something black hopping across and it stopped roughly at mid-stage, pretty much right in front of me. It was, well, not an actor. No, not an actress either. NO! NOT the curtains! It was a crow! That crow actually surprised me a little bit. Well, after a second or two, literally face-to-face situation, the crow... made an about turn while I was still fascinated by my lovely view (remember I am somehow obsessed with those black feathery flying things?), and, well, hopped its way back at ease. It was, well a funny incident for me at least. I can just imagine the sound of its claws hitting on the little flat piece of concrete. 'Tick, tack, teck, tick, teck...' Then it stopped and looked at me for a second or two, then turns back, and went: 'tick, tack, teck, tick, teck...' and disappears.

Broccoli! When will I write something sensible or interesting?

Ask Carrot.

P.S. Broccoli and Carrot are not... any people or, well in this case, living objects that I know of... I just somehow have the image of, ahem, a broccoli witting on my left and a carrot standing on my right.

-sorry I know my posts are either boring or weird.

Still hiding behind a Daisy petal, playing hide-and-seek with morning dews.