Tuesday, August 31, 2004

whose way.

We thought it was 'this way'. They thought it was 'that way'.

The one on top? Didn't think at all.

I'm seriously irked.

Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe we're the ones who didn't use our brains. You know... that part between your ears...

Whatever it is, I'm disgusted and disillusioned with the system.

I don't want to just sit and complain and whinge about how rigid and inflexible and the sheer amount of red tape, and yet, it doesn't seem as if there is even a possible solution to this problem, let alone a quick fix-it. It's a multi-dimensional problem with many possible solutions, but no one can ever be sure which is the right one.

Perhaps a perfect solution is an utopian ideal, and that the process taken towards finding one may prove to be far more valuable.

I want to go back... no, I want to run back to the times where life had bright rosy hues and fuzzy warm edges. Filled with sounds of Chopin's mazurkas and songs from Yamaha textbooks, and the lost love gathered from a three-way embrace, and ringing laughter that had once cast a protective shroud over my awareness.

Now, I'm even more repulsed by myself.

Ick.


she procrastinated @ 00:15 |

Monday, August 30, 2004

"Procrastimation is like masturbation: at first it feels good, then you realise you're only screwing yourself."

Crudely put, but true.

If only I can avoid that too.


she procrastinated @ 01:43 |

Wednesday, August 25, 2004

midpoint.

Yeah yeah I know this is my virgin post, but I'm not going to launch it by justifying why I started a blog. Most bloggers seem to begin by stating their respective reasons for putting their lives out on the Net for others to read, willingly promoting a voyueristic culture.


It's funny: when did privacy become such an indiscreet commodity?


Semi-contradicted myself, didn't I. Ah well.


Ramblings aside, this has been one helluva day. Woke up late for school (this despite a wake-up call, I'm horrible). Only 2hrs of sleep due to the incessant barking from the insane Jack Russell. Aka Bubu. (Or rather, Booboo.) The shock of seeing my mum's horrendously expensive and ugly purchases from Shanghai. Misplaced my passport. Being bullied by the prata man. To culminate matters, I nearly lost my appetite for supper (yummy prata n curry chicken) after coming face-to-face with the ravaged remnants of a cockroach on the sofa. Its feelers were later found to be decorating Bubu's jaw.


Now that, was traumatic.


What really irked me, was the realization that today was the midpoint of my teaching attachment at B Sec Sch. Poised right at the centre.


Time is passing too slowly for my liking, and too fast as well.


The attachment isn't half bad. It's just the damned chore of waking up at unearthly hours in the morning, having to live by a fixed timetable again, and the projects. Different sets of expectations according to different hierachial authorities.

When someone constructs and builds a house, which comes first? Design and search for suitable material? Or work with your available material to come up with a suitable design?


I guess there really isn't any correct answer, but a balance between the two options would be a fair gauge and obvious response to this question. But what do you do when they are at opposite ends of the spectrum and there really isn't any middle ground?


Also, I've reaffirmed once again that I am a conservative and conventional idiot. I just can't seem to come up with 'innovations' and 'progressive ideas'. I won't give up, but I know it's not a strong part of my genetic make-up. I'm more of an analyst than a composer, deriving a sadistic pleasure from breaking things down. With my destructive nature, asking me to come up with original and inventive ideas is anathema to my central being.


A major factor is also because it requires too much thinking. And I can't be bothered most of the time.


I'm going to make the best of it though, and try to make my time in B Sec Sch worthwhile. I'm already halfway through anyway.


Trying to convince myself that the glass of water isn't half empty, but half full.

she procrastinated @ 01:08 |

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

Old wounds hurt most, I learned this today, becaus...
She speaks, repeating the old litanies, of worn ac...
time skips
and it all comes together!
beethoven's symphony no.7 2nd mvt
again,
towards that something
In the alley of shadows and death
Masking Tape
another end of the world

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

"One is wicked, because one see things clearly." - Beaumarchais's Le nozze di Figaro.

And there were phlegmatic souls.