Thoughts of 8.15pm

Sitting out side University of Sydney's Fisher library, I felt like writing a few lines.

It is a cold but humid night. there are a few students here and there, talking or waiting for their ride home.

Looking at the main building, you can't tell that there's been a graduation ceremony on today. A group of students finally stepping out of this Uni. It is a beautiful night not worthy of description. It is the kind of night that for it to be understood, it has to be seen, it has to be felt, it has to be heard. It's starting to rain.

There is a mystery about this time. A certain silence which is only interrupted by a passing car or by the words spoken by a couple of Korean students across me.

Need to find a calling. Is this all it's worth? Is every thing going to be the same all the time? Same boring voices, same boring streets and same boring whispers?