New York City

I just read a blog entry that says New York City is not as intimidating as it is generally presumed to be, she being one of the great megacities of the world. Rather, as a reference to author Nora Ephron’s relationship to NYC, she is rather a collection of small villages which are distinct communities of their own. With their own culture and identity. How fascinating! I would like me and my family to go there one day.

Fart about

Peter, the joker one, humored, “Instead of saying Party Party, you say Farty Farty. In reference to that event which occurs every day of our lives: farting. How about a farting contest?”
Peter jokes about the most mundane topics that most people avoid like farting and gets away with it.


I don’t feel appreciated. And I don’t feel the urge to live on anymore. The people I love pass through as if I don’t exist. Am I garbage thrown into the ocean to be dumped on, until I am pushed to the bottom? The heap on top gets collected while I remain down below. What then is the reason for my existence?

I feel so down down down. I am not happy. I cannot fully pay the bills. Deficit every month. Can’t sustain this downward trend. I want to end my life.