come to me again, in the cold, cold night.

Last night I had a mosquito buzz in my ear. It was not just a buzz and fly away. This little pest was consistent in his rhythmic tormenting patterns. He would fly close to my ear. I would swat it away. He would wait. And wait, until I was almost asleep. Then he would scratch his little filthy wings together and come closer, practically pounding on my ear drum like a drum circle in a city park. It got to the point where I wrapped a sweat shirt around my head. I resembled a Arabian with my turban, peacefully laying still like a crocodile, eyes open wide like an owl, with the determination of a lion attacking it's prey.

Moral of the paragraph . . . I did not get much sleep.

I woke up to storm clouds and a cool breeze rustling the red curtains. I took a hot bath; soaking not only my pours but also the mirror, with thick steam. I took my time and dried my hair with my favorite italian hair dryer. I ate yogurt for breakfast. I checked to see if my clothes were dry and brought inside the ones that were. I walked to school and passed some construction workers whose shiny, new, yellow, hats, glowed in the pale streets. I got to class three minutes passed ten. I was still on time. I watch Futuristic films in history of cinema. The Dada Movement gave me motion sickness, even though I was secularly fastened in a white plastic chair (that squeaked at every breath taken.) I watched the full length version of Cinema Paradiso while eating a sandwich hand made by "the sexiest fifty year old italian man named Pino." I collected my photographs from yesterdays development. I walked home. I met our neighbors on the bottom floor officially. They were nice. I checked my laundry to see if the rest of my articles were dried; they were more soaked than before. I wrote a rough draft of a poem titled "tell me a secret" in my notebook.

And now, I sit writing this post, simply because I like how the new fonts look on my layout.