in the shape of things to come, too much poison come undone

I finished the sixth Harry Potter book tonight; it was quite good, although I was annoyed at one scene [extremely mild spoiler] in which J.K. Rowling shamelessly lifted the Dead Marshes from 'The Lord of the Rings'. I can't wait to see the movie, and see how they manage to make it not look exactly like 'The Two Towers'; maybe they can even get the same actors to play dead people, 'cause that would rock.[/extremely mild spoiler]

Anyway, I won't say anything else about the book since few people have read it yet. I was tired at work today; I do not remember my dreams from last night, but I did not sleep well. The lack of sleep was compounded by my broken air conditioner, since it was quite hot in my room. It's still leaking, but I found a bucket, so I'm using it, and damn the consequences.

A storm is beginning to rage outside, and the lightning is illuminating my room when the flickering power cannot. I am listening to 'Milan', a beautiful electronica song that Can Sar sent me, and dreaming, starry-eyed, of my upcoming trip to Italy. It is on nights like tonight when I wonder how I got here, how I am lounging in silken splendour, gazing out across the chilly marble of my room to watch the lashing rains of the monsoon wreaking havoc on the desolate fields outside my enclosed apartment complex. I wonder what step it was that got me here--for it was not enough to just say 'yes' when I was asked to move to India, but there was a whole series of crossroads that led to that fateful choice, that made the 'yes' not only possible, but inevitable. And that, invariably, leads to the question of what as-yet-unseen choice has been made possible, inevitable, by my time here. Unfortunately, there is no answer to that question; but even if there was, I doubt that it will come to me tonight. Therefore, it's time to sleep!