Psych Diaries

In I walk,  dressed in a tailor made dark blue suit. I hang my coat and my hat at the counter. I know it's hard to find a free table at this hour with out a reservation. But to my relief, I find one by the far end of the room, near the window. I didn't like sitting by the window, especially when it is curtained.  But it is a secluded, peaceful spot. Suited my mood, and it didn't seem like I had much of a choice anyway. So I take that seat. "Good evening, monsieur.  How may I be of help? " asks the well groomed waiter. He seems vaguely familiar. Coincidence, may be. I brush the thought aside and I ask for the menu.  He hands me one. I just smile back,  browse through  the menu,  and when I was ready to place my order,  he takes out his pad and a pen,  and starts jotting it down. I rubbed my hands together in excitement. " I think I'll have a movie. Hmm...  Let's say, a thriller? . Hmm. Make it intense. The ch...

Once a butterfly got so homesick, he wanted to go back in his cocoon. But he couldn't, for his beautiful wings were fairly large. He tried crawling back in, oh try hard he did. His wings hurt, blocked his way. So obsessed, so desperate he got, that he chewed his wings off. He wasn't a butterfly anymore. Nor was he a caterpillar. But he was back in his cocoon, Never to get back out again.