So I was stoning in front of the television, watching Arts Central.

Sat through the anime segment; something called "Hellsing" and something else called "Rumbling Hearts"-- lovely angsty sort of stuff. And the latter was something like a stumbling progression of scenes, and a collection of disconnected, disjointed scenes of equally detached characters. All looking like they're not sure of what they're doing with their lives.

Then, there was a short play of Samuel Beckett's on, entitled "Happy Days"; I still can't really figure out absurdist playwrights-- the only sense I could make of the one long, single scene throughout the short play of that woman sitting waist-deep in the sand of a barren waste, with a bag near her and muttering to herself, was the idea that Beckett was perhaps expounding once again upon the fatalism and how nothing that we create (or *don't* create, for that matter) doesn't last.

There's a clear sky tonight with a thousand millions stars out; at least, that's what it looks like. I can see all the brighter ones twinkling away, and in an empty patch of sky, I think I see the ones that are less bright, looking like shadows of pinpricks of light nestled in the purplypinkness of the sky. Or maybe it's my own eyes seeing illusions of the brighter stars seared onto my eyes and projecting them on the blank expanse.

Training restarts tomorrow morning-- good thing, I'm itching to shoot. And then I'll be off to Kenny's bookstore for his official opening. :)