mantra

Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.

- friedrich nietzsche

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zefrank
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thoughts.gone.by

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the semester started last week, and i am feeling really uncomfortable at class. i feel like a chinchilla amidst a crowd of sugar gliders - i plan to copyright this metaphor, just so you know.

the point we learnt from the post above is that, when i'm tired, things don't make sense. feel free to hurl obscenities at me for my tired ramblings.

on another note, i bought a - bag? packet? - of dried rose buds/blooms. i'm not exactly sure what is the usage, but it is edible, so most probably it's for herbal infusion teas. i've dropped four blooms to my green tea brew, and the fragrance is quite subtle. i need to think of more ways to utilise the rose buds for consumption. right i'm thinking, toll house cookies with a healthy sprinkling of dried, semi-crushed rose petals, and replacing the milk chocolate chunks with white chocolate chunks. that would be nice. perhaps a dollop of raspberry jam to the batter to give it a little tangy taste. if all else fail, i'll just munch on the roses one by one.




posted by frau frump.

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