Noel Abla.

my first try in movie editing. this is ozge skiing into the fog. watch her hat. the music is by east village opera company. the song is the flower duet redux...

from the blind assassin

why does she keep arriving? is he some private game she's playing, is that it? he won't let her pay for anything, he won't be bought. she wants a love story out of him because girls do, or girls of her type who still expect something from life. but there must be another angle. the wish for revenge, or for punishment. women have curious ways of hurting someone else. they hurt themselves instead; or else they do it so the guy doesn't even know he's been hurt until much later. then he finds out. then his dick falls off. despite those eyes, the pure line of her throat, he catches a glimpse in her at times of something complex and smirched.

-margaret atwood

from dark star safari

i told him what i felt about time exposing the truth- that time did not heal wounds, but that the passsing years gave us a vantage point from which to see the reality of things. i added that it was no fun to grow old, but that the compensation for it was that time turned your mental shit detector into a highly-calibrated instrument.

- paul theroux

the mouse is cute. but, the mouse has to go, said ozge, it is dirty it will make us sick. she is not here to kill the mouse so i will have to figure out another way. i remember when my first fish died i could not get him out of the tank. i sat down on the stairs and cried and i wasn’t even a kid. and now, how am i going to get the mouse, it has ears!

i am happy to have the mouse. to know i am not alone and to know he will never try to give me advice like everybody else these days. not that i don’t need it. and not that i don’t ask for it. you see, i am a little lost, just floating around somewhere in the cold winter sky. ever since that palm reader told me it is not a good year to make decisions i have given up making them altogether. she also said i should become a massage therapist.

don’t forget, you are not alone, said my dailyom email the other day. remember life is hard for everyone. but i wish i had a tiger, too. instead of a mouse. then the two of us could go sledding down the hill, and forget all our troubles.

Song For A Winter's Night

The lamp is burning low upon my table top,
The snow is softly falling.
The air is still in the silence of my room.
I hear your voice softly calling.
If I could only have you near,
To breathe a sigh or two,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love.
On this winter night with you.

The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead,
My glass is almost empty.
I read again between the lines upon each page;
The words of love you sent me.
If I could know within my heart,
That you were lonely too,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love.
Upon this winter night with you.

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim,
The shades of night are lifting.
The morning light steals across my window pane,
Where webs of snow are drifting.
If I could only have you near,
To breathe a sigh or two,
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love,
Upon this winter night with you,
And to be once again with you.

- Gordon Lightfoot