It's Thursday night and my brain is boiled with anticipation of another fleeting weekend. The monotonous cycle repeats itself week after week; my life slowly but cruelly chipped away, piece by piece, however small, imperceptible to eyes it may be.

While driving amidst Thursday late afternoon traffic, I have all of a sudden lost count of my real age. It took a few seconds of subtraction for the current year and my birth year to sort out the confusion, and the result was not satisfactory; the truth is always a little higher than what one would of liked.

The profusion of so many quality photo blogs of Taiwan, by natives and foreigners alike, is making my resolve to stay in the U.S. waver. What am I doing with my life as of now will surely contribute to my future regrets, or will it? Oh well, at least I still have my grad school acceptance/decline letter to look forward to in the next few months. To be accepted is to fortress my resolve; to be declined I might as well hop on a aircraft and backpacking in China till my savings are dwindled to naught. But the sad part is, I will never be that capricious. I will continue to whine like this and not take any tangible step.

Much to my abhorrence I have come to love Starbucks. No, I don't care much for the drinks, but for the privilege to sit and read without a bother in the world is really something else. Of course, some would argue that library would serve the purpose at no charge, but I simply cannot stand the 'aesthetics' of community or branch libraries in my neighborhood. The only library I adore, the L.A. Central Library, is too cumbersome on weekdays to travel to due to traffic congestion. At Starbucks I don't mind the coffee bean grinding noise or chatters from the table next -- they are what I consider 'noise of life.' Funny how milieu can change one's preference. At Taipei city I strongly detested Starbucks; at enervating suburbia the coffee joint is becoming my sanctuary from ennui.