I want this printed on a shirt.

Alcoholic Honey

This, is a bottle of Mead. It was bought from Tasmania from our last trip in February 2009 from a private, extremely micro brewery "Seven Sheds". The bottle has been standing in our fridge for about 2 odd hears. Brother and I opened it today, because he decided to quit his job, destroy his car, and date a secretary all in the one month.

It doesn't smell particular fabulous. It smells like honey. There is a strong taste of berry, blackberries probably, it's a bit tart. (On the label, it says 'Contains hints of blackberries and pepper berries). It's quite rich in floral flavours, probably towards the rose category. But in all seriousness, it taste like fermented honey water. The finish is quite strong, and a slightly burn is present. Alcohol is immediately tasted at the threshold of your throat.

If you have a sore throat, then this is quite soothing. Best served chilled. Quite different from what you would normally encounter in the alcoholic shelf.

This Old Man

It's 7:30. There's a bolding old man wandering the university grounds. He has a thick eye glasses and wears a loose shirt with a bright blue tie, grey suit jacket, long gery cotton socks and a pair of neat brown leather shoes. He carries with him a few shopping bags under rolled up sleaves. Every now and again, he would take a moment from shifting through the universities rubbish bins to stare at the setting sun. Sometimes he would test his vision, covering one eye with his left hand, then another. He would stroke his unshaven neck a few times, straighten his tie and pull up his socks before diving back into the bins; searching for a single meal

As I watched him wondering the university grounds from a raised balcony. A middle ages man, loose from a long day at work, stood a distance beside me. He had a beer in his hand from the pub and was outside having a breather. He too saw the wandering old man. I instantly saw a look of pain, despair and inward pity wash over his face.

Serendipity

09032010

I hate it when this happens.

___________________________________________

It seems as though my life is categorised between Uni days, and non-uni days.

Uni days seem to be days of chaos within the precise order of my scheduled classes and dead lines. Where strangers, friends and people clash with each other in their in their obscure ways of communication; with plenty of things said and done, but with only half of it is ever understood completely.

This puddle of social activity creates impossible combinations, chances and potential mishaps. The ability to bring to friends together without prior arrangement. The ease at which one can misunderstood. The pain which comes with trying to systematically decipher the chaotic chain of events.

___________________________________________

I'm sorry.

"My What happened to your jaw!"

Nothing was heard by the gurgle of blood, spit and sweat.

Analytically speaking, it was quite an interesting experience.

Maximum Entropy

taken from link

[%]: I loved those determine your own adventure books
[^]: I disagree. I always read them straight through and got all retarded and shit.

___________________________________________

Everything is grand and exciting now. Potential knowledge, books and leaves to be consumed. The beginning of a fresh university year with exciting prospects, is most pleasing. I doubt I would be feeling the same once the workload increases, but so far I'm enjoying the prospect of potential new company, and especially the order a timetable gives to me each day.