Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

... no, really, don't.

It's cold out these days. Really cold. Best part is, it's going to get colder soon enough. Oh well. Thanksgiving holidays are around the corner! Huzzah to that I guess. One must at least give thanks to getting a week off of classes ;).

Been busy just doing projects and keeping up with classes these days. I wouldn't say there's nothing to talk about; life is just routine, and making the routine interesting takes a fair amount of skill and determination. That, and staying up at night. My best thoughts come out at night for some strange reason. Perhaps my body is so tired, my mind keeps busy with just itself instead of managing it. Or perhaps it is because it's sleeping time, so my brain starts roaming in preparation for dreamworld.

_____________________________

They say couples start to look alike after spending enough time together. It's a strange phenomenon I would think, but I can see how it happens, in a way. We are moulded by the people we hang out with, regardless of how antisocial one is. The experiences we share make us who we are. If we share happy memories, then we'll be happy people. If we share sadness, our faces might droop more. If there is a deep connection between each other, lives and even the physical world changes.

And yet, do we become who we are because we want to, or did we start out with a set path? I've always liked listening to jazz. I've always liked a certain style, or a certain way of doing things. Only my lady and I know who I become when we're together, but I think others may have had hints. She and I can be two of a kind, or one of a kind depending on where we are and what we're doing. I guess that's how we click; we both act the same way. But how does someone quite different from me somehow have the same thought processes as me? Weren't we two independent people? Or did us being together make way for a different view?

It feels like we become who we want to be according to what we want others to see in us. That doesn't make us any less real a person though. If the faces we put on weren't real, then nobody is real.

_____________________________

I like going to the mall every once in awhile. It's a hassle, but it is worth it at times. The restaurants are all there, so I go to get a good break from boring ol' food once in awhile. The thing that pulls me there more often than not is the pet shop though. Been itching to get my fur fix. I love dogs to death, they're just so cute and lovable. They greet almost everyone with equal friendliness and hope. They'll gladly jump up on you every single day you come home because it's been ages since they've seen you. They roll around and act so damn cute you just have to squeeze their little heads to bits. They're simple and straightforward. And yet, there are times when it gets kind of depressing.

Picture a pet store. A poor man walks in just browsing through the windows. A cute little terrier who has never seen him before jumps up to the window, panting and wagging his tail. The man walks over smiling, seeing how happy the little furball is. The dog and the man both place their hands/paws on the window, and for that instant, for that very picture, they are happy. Think about it though: Who's the one who deserves more pity? The man, or the dog? The man knows he will probably never be able to get the dog. He'll smile now, but it only serves to remind him that he can't get that little friend for a long time. All he can do is hope that the moment lasts as long as possible. The dog on the other hand will greet the next person to come just as enthusiastically as he did before. Someday, the dog will get bought out and will live in a hopefully happy family. The man walks away, stuck with feelings of longing.

Still, they're just so damn cute that you just can't help smiling when you see one. I know my hands twitch when I see one padding along jauntily.

____________________________

Life is like crayons: Some people get a six pack, and some get a twelve. Some have an infinite variety to choose from. In the end, it's what you draw with what you have that makes you who you are.