Thursday, December 18, 2008

with that bit of irony and truth.

Had a bit of a scare earlier, when I started typing in the search toolbar and chinese characters popped out. (Please take into consideration that I am a tech-noob, and will go into spasms at things like these. Imagine trying to google how to fix it when all the letters you type emerge as foreign chinese characters. But as you can see, I obviously solved it but not without help, ah, help.) The culprit, of course, is innocently sprawled on top of the mousepad.

These days, it's all about cat. What cat is doing, where cat is hiding, what food to feed cat, how big cat's poop is, why is cat fart so deadly, things like that. Happy times which coincide with the holidays, and as I say that, despair lurches forward like tomorrow's deadline for I'm reminded of its end, the reprisal of school. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't like teaching but as I have said only 2309856 times, it's all the other things that come along with it that makes me feel like I'm not a teacher, but a number, a figure to be squeezed dry of youth and vigour, and served up in an elixir that bestows goodness (read: other things please) to those deemed worthy by their own standards.

In any case, I have had a lot to think about these days (besides how I'm going to clear the backlog of work). Mortality is an issue that is always at the forefront of my mind, ties formed and broken, the fragility of happiness, lascivious self-pity, trying to placate the demands from the inner sanctum and that of the dollar green, and always, always, I think of all the things that make me laugh, and make me cry.

I've been reading a fair bit for the past fortnight, nothing really much more than the usual, just the slight bit more that comes along with imposed house arrest when one is ill. There are passages that I come across that make me squirm, smile sadly, shed tears of equanimity, and I always find that after each journey of a book, I am changed somewhat, but nothing ever quite happens to show for it. Or that, it had just passed me by.

Today is deemed 3rd class special by me, not for the reason that you may think, but simply because it's the first time in two weeks plus, that I have not dreamed about the world's end. It was always spectacular, I grant you this, whether it be a big bang, relentless disintegration of body parts, or everyone gradually being swirled into a giant cotton candy belting slogans from a forgotten world.

Last night, I dreamt that I was forced to take part in a swimming competition despite my howling protests that I couldn't swim. I then used cat as a float/life-saving device to keep my head above water and she wasn't very happy about it. But who would, really, I should have learned how to swim on my own, instead of relying on cat/others, you know. And I try, and try, by holding up a mirror to my face, keeping silent, and I continue to try again.

Postscript: What I'm really trying to say is that I'm thankful for all the good friends that I have who are always willing to help me. And I'm most willing to extend it back just that I'm not really the type of person that people go to when they are in need because I tend to make things worse, but even so, I am always here for all of you, as all of you have been for me.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

a tangle.

I look at you sometimes, be it with eyes or mind, and hear the undertones of longing. It stretches too far both behind and ahead, with bicoloured markings of handprints, that creates fettered chains in its quest for an imagined freedom. This I know, despite it not being seen for what it is, apart from fragile and contrived vivacity.

It's either you or me - that you don't understand it had never been my place, or that I don't understand that I had been wrong all along.

Somehow, I don't think it's the latter, so I don't do enough by your standards, but in being responsible towards myself (your description would be 'selfish'), I feel, or am made to feel, as if I have let you down - again, again, and again.

Having come to an impasse, I suppose there is nothing more to say, except that I am not the person who you think I am, nor am I the person who I thought I had always been.

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.