  murder i just overheard a toddler screaming at the top of its lungs, the performance only muffled by the traffic outside (across the road, someone is having an auction or some other secret gathering). which is scary. it alternates between screaming and silence and screaming and silence, as if the poor fellow is being tortured as i type this.
or maybe he is... dead. i hope not. because i've just read some of the best ghost short stories of the past fifty years, and my conscience is... quite tarnished. thank you. i once had this dream about arguing with the voices in my head. these critters took form in duplicates of this short young boy with messy hair (which is what you would see if you had the misfortune of waking up next to me one cool early morning) and eyes that threaten to shut without a daily dose of caffeine, and they blame me vehemently for not learning to think and communicate with others in my native language, which is supposed to be chinese. but then the spotlight intensified, the skies gave way to Destiny, and all the elves gathered in front of me; with a microphone stand (and the microphone) in front of me, i could only say the most brilliant thing a person can ever say to the voices in his head in a nightmare: "i fucking dare you to speak to me in chinese.
NOW. " then i woke up to cold feet and the prospect of another boring day in school, and i felt like i had just conquered the world. but i only declared victory when i had my morning mug of coffee, since at five a.m. in the morning alertness is still in hibernation somewhere in my ass. goodnight. 
