It's definitely not getting any cooler here in poor Manille. The weather has just been more tolerable lately but humidity is humidity. It will always feel like living in a pressure cooker as a friend of mine would say. D'ailleurs, wearing a leather jacket would be no easy feat. It all ended in a sweat-ridden one in my case. I'm devoting the absence of new magazines to connect me with the world I could only dream of (as Numéro homme, Crash, 10 Men, Dansk, An Other Man, Monocle... my usual reads are unavailable here) with a wonderful book by the great Marquis de Sade. It's called Philosophy in the Boudoir and I must say, someone like de Sade was definitely ahead of his time. He did eroticism before everyone else did. In this certain feeling of nothingness gushing through me, I do hope that in my brief sleep (which is in a few minutes), I dream of something good. It must be something splendid like being reincarnated as a modern-day Dolmancé (a very interesting character in that de Sade book I'm reading). For anything else there is to share, de Sade's book is keeping my often stagnant brain visualizing things. I do believe a good book could be an orgasmic experience. It's just too bad I hardly have friends who've read the same books as I have whom I could just have a chat with about the books we've read. Apparently, you can't alway have the things that you want. In my case, I often keep a discourse with myself regarding the things that I consume and the random things around me. I don't know if this is healthy but I wonder if this could lead to a certain psychological or mental disorder?