morning 64.
it's 7.30 am. the sun's rays are blasting through the window, prashant's domestic help is clanging away in the kitchen making tea, and i find my self singing "it's the end of the world" by R.E.M.
wim wenders' until the end of the world and R.E.M.'s it's the end of the world as we know it (and i feel fine) have captivated my soul since my youth.