i still like the feeling of nostalgia, even though i'm not nostalgic about much in the past, just now.

i still like the funny feeling doing nothing earnestly, wasting life, sighing melodramatically. 

 i still whine a lot, mostly to dogs, who i think don't mind if i'm whining or singing.

i still believe life's spiritual and mystical even if it's stupid as concrete and banal and assholes rule.

i still have intellectual pretensions though my memory is weak and i just want to be a dog with a sweet caretaker.

 i still wish dada would come back from when i wasn't living.

i still think it's cute and sweet when he stays posed when i walk on.