it is four thirty in the morning on a sunday, and i'm currently in montreux, typing on an increasingly irritating tailbone because clearly pain accumulates and i can't possibly lie down on a table and use my laptop that way. maybe it's a sign for me to start studying, so rawr.

it has been an eventful vacation, and many things were resolved because sometimes that's how things should be like. there is closure of sorts, and beginning of another and this is probably how a new chapter begins, sadly, inevitably, and cyclically; 7 hours ago i reached geneva airport and i saw the mac that i once typed on and i realised with certainty that everything's over.

elliot smith speaks much truth sometimes.