I bought a replacement stylus for the mobile today. However from the past week’s experience it seems that I am rather adept at operating it using only my fingertips. Still, despite my veritable skill at Graffiti (I love that Microsoft preserved this method in Windows Mobile despite Palm themselves replacing it with the comparably inelegant Graffiti 2) input sans stylus, the screen was getting a little too smudgy for my liking. The new one isn’t made by HP, though, it doesn’t fit in as satisfactorily snugly - but I guess it’s pretty much secure enough. Still, it’s the little details like that that make my day; I want everything I handle to be bespoke, crafted so meticulously it brings tears to the eyes of even the most experienced of Savile Row tailors by the sheer magnitude and impossibility of its perfection.
I didn’t originally intend to take advantage of Ben and Jerry’s ‘Free Cone Day’ today, but eventually did, with Mel, Steph, and Ted Kin; City Hall station is pretty convenient for me, and I had to procure my aforementioned stylus in the area anyway. Thankfully the winding queue that had formed snaking around Raffles City mall’s basement level was quick-moving despite appearing deceptively long. My only qualm with the free cone of New York Super Fudge Chunk I received was the residual adhesive I think I ingested. It still tasted fairly excellent, nevertheless. It was fortunate that we got our share early - as the evening wore on, it seems, the crowd increasingly swelled with the sort of obnoxious simpletons you would usually avoid queuing with, and by 6.30 PM or so the chain had deteriorated into a sort of mass mess.
I’ve taken to writing more in my poetry/prose/metaphysicalramblings journal quite comfortably as of late. My pen usually ravages its virgin pages at 2 to 3 AM, thereabouts - after the varied pressing concerns of the day spontaneously segue into the hazy lucidity of insomnia like cold milk flooding crisp breakfast cereal. Unfortunately this tome of my half-consciousness is not of sufficient quality for me to be proud of, yet, at least. I shall spare everyone the details.
