~ °Café de Terrasse° ~

The thoughts of an odd duck who sits alone in a night cafe, with a stylo in his right, a journal in his left, a valise under his chaise, a tasse on the table, and plenty of time to pass.

~ Salut! Come and join me at Table #12 |Leaving so soon? Ecrivez-Moi! ~

As of right now, patrons have patronized me. I feel...

The current mood of wearytraveller at www.imood.com

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~ mercredi, octobre 02, 2002 ~

Wow... I feel wonderful. I don't know why... I feel wonderful. Perhaps it's the weather... It was rather sunny but not too sunny- there were large white clouds that fluffed the blue out of the sky. The air was chilly but not too cold... but it was not hot at all... it was coooooool with mild zephyrs breezing in from the east. Ahhh... soooo refreshing. I went for a stroll down my neighborhood and took in the scent of sweet rose pungence with a touch of earthy musk. The birds were singing but not too loudly... the echoes of their hymns lightly waved in the wind and chimes were lightly swished with a 'tling' here and a 'tlang' there. Not to be too cliché but the leaves on the green trees swayed as the semi-swift air entangled itself in their branches... whoooooooo... whahhhhh...

~Benjamin 10/02/2002 11:35:00 PM

~ mardi, octobre 01, 2002 ~

After reading my past blogs, I see how conceited I am... how terrible. I've always detested conceited people. I just never knew that I actually detested myself. It's like, the more humble a person tries to be, the more conceited he/she becomes. A truly humble person doesn't know that he/she is humble. Being humble is NEVER something to be proud of, simply because one cannot be so. But if it were possible, true virtue would no longer be true virtue. That's the irony behind it.
I am a proud young man but I am not proud of that.

~Benjamin 10/01/2002 11:16:00 PM

Something about this blog of mine caught my attention. I started it as a means of posting my thoughts. It was not so much meant to be a personal blog as it was meant to be an impersonal blog. This blog was not meant to be a diary of experiences. It was meant to be a journal of thoughts. Somehow, during the past few weeks, however, all of that changed. I was no longer writing in this blog to share with the world. I was writing in this bog to share with myself. "My" blog became "MY" blog.
Now I wonder, who cares what I go through everyday? People have their own lives to worry about. My life is not theirs. Anyway, this blog was not supposed to be about my life. It was supposed to be about life itself. But how can i write about life without expressing my own? Whether or not I will change the entire format of this blog towards its original objective, I do not know... I just do not know...

~Benjamin 10/01/2002 11:04:00 PM

~ lundi, septembre 30, 2002 ~

Memories Heal. Memories Kill.
"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape."
-John Lancaster Spalding

I often reminisce about those times when i was one. Now I am two... I am three, four, five. I am now lost among the crowds. My best days seems to have passed me by but I know they are ahead because otherwise, I wouldn't feel this way.

~Benjamin 9/30/2002 11:02:00 PM

I just want to delete all my posts and start all over again but If i did, i wouldn't have anything. This blogger is a complete and utter disgrace to thoughts, coffee, man, and life. Goodness, I wish i had somebody to talk to about my problems. Those problems of mine that people will actually see as problems, and not as mere nothings.

"Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted,
who ate of my bread, has lifted his heel against me.
But you, O LORD, be gracious to me,
and raise me up, that I may repay them." -Psalm 41:9-10

~Benjamin 9/30/2002 10:26:00 PM

~ dimanche, septembre 29, 2002 ~

MODEL UNITED NATIONS: COMING SOON TO DUARTE HIGH SCHOOL, Fall 2002

~Benjamin 9/29/2002 11:43:00 PM

En memoire de Floy Catabas (1932-2002)