It's 1:30 AM

Why am I still up? I should be sleeping. I have school tomorrow. No I'm not a student, not anymore, I'm the teacher. But my school is behind my teacher's quarters and it takes less than 20 minutes to get ready anyway unless I'm being super lazy (5 minutes top) so lets write something before going to bed cherie.

I couldn't sleep because I finished reading Truman Capote's Breakfast at Tiffany's in one sitting. Downloaded the PDF and read it on my iPad. I promise I will get a physical copy of the book when I have the chance (please forgive my transgression oh Lord of the Books).

I have seen the movie starring Audrey Hepburn. I remember bits and pieces of the storyline. I think I watched it with my sister when Astro used to have TNT channel and they'd be showing classic Hollywood movies. Or I could have caught only the ending and placed the info in the dark recesses of my mind because when I read the book, or is it a novella, I don't remember so much attitude and colorful characters and the Mafia and a loose horse chasing through the streets of Manhattan.

Or I might have but can't recall.

That's the thing about memories. They fade. In time all the details of your life would be gone and all you have left are bits of them scattered throughout the Universe through word of mouths retelling, or better yet, past blog entries.

If I need a dose of what my former self was like I'd go through my blog's Archive and read the September 30th, 2002 version of me. Just a quick visit, never to dwell, only to say well hello there former self. You're cute.

Back to the book. It took me a while to get into the groove of reading straight on. I used to be able to finish a novel a day but that was when I was younger and needed to escape. Excuses. I can still read a novel a day. I just need to read. As simple as reading. Which I know I can do. Hah. The choice is mine is it not? So if I don't want to read then that's it.

Sometimes what you want isn't really what you need.

Or what you need isn't really what you want.

Bollocks.

It all came down to wanting to do something. To quote from the book, "She says you got to want it to be good and I don't want it, I say well, what the hell do you want, and she says when I find out you'll be the first to know."

I knew back then I wanted to write. Somehow along the way I forgotten this wanting. Other things happened. Okay. Twitter happened.

But I do know the want is there. I know because every time I write sentences on the blackboard for my student's to jot down in their exercise books I'd have a silly smile on my face. See, I am a writer. I am writing. Screw the medium, as long as the message get sent across. Effective communication. That's where the want it at.

Oh well.