Wednesday, January 28, 2009

lying awake,

i think of the many unsaid things over the past few years, to the people i care about most. and again, i revisit the reasons why i remain silent, for i have almost forgotten.

then, the falling of burgundy curtains as i remember, and am once again rendered still.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

horrifically tired, and maybe, a little sad.

There must be a better way, surely.

On the bright side, I have good friends, endearing students, and a new toy rat.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

sotto voce.

If that turns out to be the truth, I don't think I'll ever forgive myself.

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

growing up.

I'm blogging twice in a day because I am awake, with a insatiable urge to scratch the ringworm patches (gift from cat) but I can't. I could possibly continue to read Taruskin's exhaustive tome on Western Music History, but I don't really want to. Not because it's dull (it's fabulous, really), but it's just not the same reading it while drinking coffee. Things go in faster that way.

Someone, once close to me, remarked today that I've changed quite a fair bit in the span of a year (as echoed by another someone else). Two other friends, who are close to me yet apart, also remarked on how much my life has changed in the past year. And I think, perhaps, and then, yes, for paradigm shifts have occurred in the wake of old-new discoveries. Also, the state of disillusionment enchants, while the benefit of hindsight bestows belated, and anguished, clarity of vision. But since when does the passage of time not bring about immutable change, welcome or otherwise?

I will like to be, as in the old self, somewhat irrepressible (and irresponsible), but now, an early but not unexpected mediation is trying to take place, and I find myself in between places. Otherwise, stuck, for I resist. Something has got to give, and while I'm not willing to relinquish what I deem to be mine, it looks like I'm not given a choice in this anyway, for it was never mine to begin with. My life is only half my own, and has been for years, and will continue for at least another 5. This - Yang'en often reminds me (think Commandatore from Don Giovanni), of which I often forget the latter half.

It saddens me, to be honest, when I am told of how much I have changed. For I know it's a case of the form stifling the content, and not the other way round. I used to know what Kant and Adorno and many others thought on this topic, and I even once used to have a mild opinion on this matter. But now, I don't remember, I don't have an opinion, and I think that pretty much says it all.

Monday, January 05, 2009

(school is starting soon,)

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooo. . . . . . . . . .

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

And there were phlegmatic souls.