Yeats: poetry is made out of a quarrel with oneself.

interesting statement being made on what poetry is made out.. come to think of it! it is very much true indeed. whatever 'quarrel' that we have in our head, we pour it into words and that is the best place of expressing our fears, angers, hunger for something and so on.

it has been a while i didn't write and it was due to the mountains of book to read and i am indulging myself deeply in it (excuses, excuses, excuses) and without realising it, it was already middle of February. Time flies really fast. Sometimes, i can feel it crawling and that's when something strike in me and i'm yet again to revive and to put aside 'the negative thoughts'.

happiness cannot be describe with words and it is way beyond that. guess that is why again i'm so selfish that i seldom write because the happiness that i gain is after going through a disastrous mess but nothing to regret of. :D

a 'profitable investment'! :)