false while on the computer, i heard singing coming from upstairs. the voice sounded sad and sensual, like when faye valentine/julia quietly hums to spike in episode 4 of cowboy bebop. it's a wonderful sound, it's hard to believe something so soft can be so touching. i wondered if my mother had suddenly decided to sing, as she has not since her college years. both my parents were quite active in school dramas/musicals, apparently. just pointless and unnecessary information about them, i suppose. going upstairs however, yielded the truth. it was a movie where a woman was singing softly to an indian man. i asked my mother about the movie, in which she responded "it's a film about an indian man who get mistakingly asked to an american party. it's quite sad, you might like it." i went upstairs to get an album while typing this. odd how things happen. when reality is bad, like it is now, you tend to go inside your own pseudoreality, as i am doing. i'm not living my life, for the moment. i'm living as someone else, jutting from media event to media event. one minute, i'm mega man exploring past civilizations which were more intelligent than the current civilization. the next, i'm kenshin, living a simple, yet fulfilling life with a wonderfully quiet woman in a small home in the mountains. then, i'm mersault in 'a happy death' travelling europe with the money that will allow me to use time as i see fit. as long as i can divert myself like this, i can be alright, i can coexist with the world. however, when i have to go back to reality, there's problems with reintegrating myself. namely, i reject reality, have a serious withdrawal from my pseudoreality. and thus, something has to go. the problem is, you can never make pseudoreality your reality.