Monday, August 20, 2007

the process of enlightenment.

I have a big blister on my 2nd finger, which makes for typing quite an ardrous undertaking.

My mother thinks she is Mary Poppins. She thinks she can squeeze ten million things into one suitcase. I find that very amusing, and what's even more amazing is that - she did fit an elephant into a suitcase. You know how I'm able to fit nuclear weapons into my bags - in this, and more, I'm my mother's child after all.

Sometimes, I wonder if honesty is really the best policy. Maybe not, but it's all been said and done.

Responsibilities! They beckon. I can deny their clarion call no longer. At least, that's something to cling onto, but it's a very poor consolation in light of what losses have been sustained.

But if you never had something in the first place, you haven't really lost anything - only a beautiful mirage, which will never be worth living or fighting for.

I feel as if a magic spell has been broken. I feel as if I've been emancipated from grim shackles of delusion. But I've no way of knowing if I've just moved into the deceptive calm eye of the storm, and that, I'm only halfway through.

At least - I know I'm getting somewhere. Temporal relief is still something to rely on for now. Beggars can't be choosers. Not that I want to be a beggar, but really, aren't we all dependent on somebody's charity every now and then. My lips curl up in a sardonic twist, and then, they straighten out, ironed-out creases, without leaving any traces that they had ever once been pulled back in a snarl. There is nothing more to be expressed - because there is, or will be, nothing left once I'm through with it. Because - I will have it so.

Bypass! Bygones! Begone!

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

mending broken mirrors.
rolling my eyes so fast it's all a blur; running; ...
the unbearable lightness of being.
'and, so it is.'
again!
881; la mer; before saying; devastated.
all of my own making.
drunken sailors blind sailing
the mysterious hand who deals the dice of indeterm...
A pair of chopsticks, with dancing flames for crow...

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

And there were phlegmatic souls.