i feel
though I also think
and cannot stop the flood
it is
suffocation
realising with perverse glee that
madness is power
the impending mania defies any fear
yet this fear is the key
and the mind the door which enters into
drowning
multiples in orgy
the selves fall apart and laugh at each other
sensations of exquisite despair bizarre sorrow hysteria joy murderous fury
asphyxiation
delicately thread the line which strangles
vertigo vision
it is too easy to let the self be destroyed in this quest for the questionable
and then swallowed darkness expands
infinitely, and the falling
should end
maybe
Friday, May 22, 2009
Friday, January 09, 2009
Blindness, Plans. Objectives, Aimlessness, Foresight
1.
i don't know, esteemed one, i don't know. the vision grows dimmer as the future darkens.
in objects of beauty we create, we invest our doomed affections, even as we die every day.
you said love will die as the body starves, that necessity triumphs over passion;
perhaps those already jaded with these games of hunger and power cannot love at all.
sometimes i see that bleak weariness glaze over the cheer in your eyes,
and i fear that same despair - that same monster that leers over each of us in waking nightmares
like some cancer, a parasite that consumes spirit and makes hollow shells of men.
how hollow can one become before completely crumbling into shards of uselessness?
2.
if i promise you, beloved one, if i promise you, yet wish to break all these chains that bind me here, as i would yearn for the recurring escape to pastures beyond -
will you be blinded by bitterness, hatred of my fallacy?
perhaps your love would lead to forgiveness, but
then i would deserve a lifetime of guilt and regret, to have hurt you beyond all the boundaries of patience, trust, understanding, support, and all the love you gave me
trampled upon by my awkward, over-reaching ambitions and wasted, like my youth, and yours.
i don't know, esteemed one, i don't know. the vision grows dimmer as the future darkens.
in objects of beauty we create, we invest our doomed affections, even as we die every day.
you said love will die as the body starves, that necessity triumphs over passion;
perhaps those already jaded with these games of hunger and power cannot love at all.
sometimes i see that bleak weariness glaze over the cheer in your eyes,
and i fear that same despair - that same monster that leers over each of us in waking nightmares
like some cancer, a parasite that consumes spirit and makes hollow shells of men.
how hollow can one become before completely crumbling into shards of uselessness?
2.
if i promise you, beloved one, if i promise you, yet wish to break all these chains that bind me here, as i would yearn for the recurring escape to pastures beyond -
will you be blinded by bitterness, hatred of my fallacy?
perhaps your love would lead to forgiveness, but
then i would deserve a lifetime of guilt and regret, to have hurt you beyond all the boundaries of patience, trust, understanding, support, and all the love you gave me
trampled upon by my awkward, over-reaching ambitions and wasted, like my youth, and yours.
Monday, September 29, 2008
FEAR: Futurist Existential Anxiety Reflexes
As the world slides ever so predictably into a recession cycle, what with superpowers swapping thrones (the US will probably have to concede to China fairly soon, most factors considered, especially with all the war-mongering and military involvement in the Middle East not looking at all optimistic, i.e. no end in sight, they cannot exterminate the terrorist pest infestations, have to keep babysitting immature unstable newborn democratic governments, despair despair); the questions raised based on sex and race on the political front reflect true chaos occurring in this post-postmodern era. Even as perceptions are deeply challenged by the possibility of either America's first black president or first female vice-president, so are well-hidden (as in classic unspoken truths - "you just can't handle the truth if it came straight out") racial and sexist prejudices brought to the surface, making one wonder if either option would make the world any better a place. The most powerful person in the world has become quite ridiculed and powerless within this last decade, and beyond the year-end elections there is a disturbing blank - how is the world going to survive with so much chaos at play? Even if there are patterns in place, no solutions can be found within them...can we as a human race even see how we are going to survive the next decade?
Pessimists can fear for real now, as our existence is so severely challenged in the beginning of this monster of a century. The world is at war with itself, both on a nation-to-nation level and on a planetary level. We have to fight terrorism, global warming, genocide, political dictators/tyrants, drugs, alcoholism, obesity, an aging population, poverty, epidemics, natural disasters...and the list continues. The longer this list grows, the more doomed we seem to be. When does it all come to an end? Should we be expecting the Apocalypse much sooner than what we can ever hope for? Should we forget about making any plans for a happy long-term, long-lived future, and simply try to live the best we can within the foreseeable future, while also preparing to die possibly tragic and horrifc deaths? Do we have a future at all?
http://www.apocalypse2012.com/book/
http://www.apocalypsesoon.org/english.html
Yes, it is frightening, all this mumbo-jumbo, all this fear. Do we seek refuge in faith, hide behind the invisible protection offered by God? What alternatives are there to protect the sanity of the few who have no power against the insanity of the powers that be, and other menacing forces at play in this world of horrors and suffering?
Pessimists can fear for real now, as our existence is so severely challenged in the beginning of this monster of a century. The world is at war with itself, both on a nation-to-nation level and on a planetary level. We have to fight terrorism, global warming, genocide, political dictators/tyrants, drugs, alcoholism, obesity, an aging population, poverty, epidemics, natural disasters...and the list continues. The longer this list grows, the more doomed we seem to be. When does it all come to an end? Should we be expecting the Apocalypse much sooner than what we can ever hope for? Should we forget about making any plans for a happy long-term, long-lived future, and simply try to live the best we can within the foreseeable future, while also preparing to die possibly tragic and horrifc deaths? Do we have a future at all?
http://www.apocalypse2012.com/book/
http://www.apocalypsesoon.org/english.html
Yes, it is frightening, all this mumbo-jumbo, all this fear. Do we seek refuge in faith, hide behind the invisible protection offered by God? What alternatives are there to protect the sanity of the few who have no power against the insanity of the powers that be, and other menacing forces at play in this world of horrors and suffering?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
on distance, suffering, worth, the absence of speech and wintermute
when someone like me keeps her silence, it's often not because of not having anything to say, but rather a confusion, even frustration, over what to say that would have the most significance, to create the most meaning and effect.
i do not have the gift of tact, or wit, that obscure ability to translate most appropriately what i feel into what i should say about what i feel or think i feel.
there seems to be no guarantee that what is said will be understood, nor is there sufficiency in the verbalisation of emotions that often are too complex to be expressed in words, because once the thought turns into speech the intensity of the emotion at the root of it all is diluted, almost transformed into a parody of what it should have been.
mostly the intention is to cause the least pain, because i know my propensity for harshness and cruelty, and i know i can inflict great misery. it is immoral to do so upon people who love me, care for me, and because of this will forgive me and pardon my sin.
this is a trap, because when it is demanded of me to verbalise my thoughts or feelings, to spit out whatever my reaction to the problem is, anything, i find myself dumbfounded but completely agonised. yes, i am the typical idiot who bottles it all up inside and just morbidly anticipates the day when i will be given a golden opportunity to explode but will fail miserably to express my incredible anger anyway, when that time ever comes.
i will end up saying something bland and colourless, which i know is acceptable and politically correct and non-offensive to the listener, but feel like screeching curses inwardly. rather schizophrenic, maybe.
it is a suffering that is marginally bearable and utterly masochistic, and i force myself to swallow it down, all the time, even as deep inside i am a railing maniac lashing out at anyone, whoever is the temporal cause or catalyst of my anger.
perhaps it is beneficial thus for me to live alone, be alone, enjoy solitary life away from anyone who may cross me. but at the same time i do feel keenly the distance between myself and the people i need to keep me from becoming a monster. the distance is almost a prison, yet also a gateway, and sometimes it is a pain that can be felt in the gut, or an emptiness within that cannot be filled, which makes comfort food and eating for nourishment a fucking joke.
i may be very depressed but too numb to admit it, because i know keeping myself numb and distant is protecting myself from falling apart. if i just let the agony or suffering get me down, i cannot enjoy anything, and that is damning my life to worthlessness. what would there be to live for?
but it is harder and harder to find meaning and value in everything i do, in the decisions i have made, and in all the consequences. it is more and more difficult to care about finding satisfaction in completing a project or finishing a piece of work. i am just numb and want desperately to move on, make the process less unbearable, less time-corroding, less miserable.
when i have nothing better to say, i tend to give monosyllabic responses or give a reply that will make the listener happy. but silence is not golden. it is rotting me out from within. that is why i turn on the television all the time to make sure i cannot hear myself think self-destructive thoughts, to make sure there is always someone on the TV talking and not the wrathful demons i have to fight down.
when one considers all the suffering in the world outside, the crying starving children of any Third World nation stuck in abject poverty, the victims of natural disasters and tyrannical corrupt governments, this life is nothing, miniscule, petty, a fucking waste of resources.
maybe i don't deserve anything. i am just an idiot brooding over nothing worthwhile, working for nothing worthwhile, feeling ridiculous inner rage for nothing. why do i even exist?
it's cold. can't feel much anymore.
i do not have the gift of tact, or wit, that obscure ability to translate most appropriately what i feel into what i should say about what i feel or think i feel.
there seems to be no guarantee that what is said will be understood, nor is there sufficiency in the verbalisation of emotions that often are too complex to be expressed in words, because once the thought turns into speech the intensity of the emotion at the root of it all is diluted, almost transformed into a parody of what it should have been.
mostly the intention is to cause the least pain, because i know my propensity for harshness and cruelty, and i know i can inflict great misery. it is immoral to do so upon people who love me, care for me, and because of this will forgive me and pardon my sin.
this is a trap, because when it is demanded of me to verbalise my thoughts or feelings, to spit out whatever my reaction to the problem is, anything, i find myself dumbfounded but completely agonised. yes, i am the typical idiot who bottles it all up inside and just morbidly anticipates the day when i will be given a golden opportunity to explode but will fail miserably to express my incredible anger anyway, when that time ever comes.
i will end up saying something bland and colourless, which i know is acceptable and politically correct and non-offensive to the listener, but feel like screeching curses inwardly. rather schizophrenic, maybe.
it is a suffering that is marginally bearable and utterly masochistic, and i force myself to swallow it down, all the time, even as deep inside i am a railing maniac lashing out at anyone, whoever is the temporal cause or catalyst of my anger.
perhaps it is beneficial thus for me to live alone, be alone, enjoy solitary life away from anyone who may cross me. but at the same time i do feel keenly the distance between myself and the people i need to keep me from becoming a monster. the distance is almost a prison, yet also a gateway, and sometimes it is a pain that can be felt in the gut, or an emptiness within that cannot be filled, which makes comfort food and eating for nourishment a fucking joke.
i may be very depressed but too numb to admit it, because i know keeping myself numb and distant is protecting myself from falling apart. if i just let the agony or suffering get me down, i cannot enjoy anything, and that is damning my life to worthlessness. what would there be to live for?
but it is harder and harder to find meaning and value in everything i do, in the decisions i have made, and in all the consequences. it is more and more difficult to care about finding satisfaction in completing a project or finishing a piece of work. i am just numb and want desperately to move on, make the process less unbearable, less time-corroding, less miserable.
when i have nothing better to say, i tend to give monosyllabic responses or give a reply that will make the listener happy. but silence is not golden. it is rotting me out from within. that is why i turn on the television all the time to make sure i cannot hear myself think self-destructive thoughts, to make sure there is always someone on the TV talking and not the wrathful demons i have to fight down.
when one considers all the suffering in the world outside, the crying starving children of any Third World nation stuck in abject poverty, the victims of natural disasters and tyrannical corrupt governments, this life is nothing, miniscule, petty, a fucking waste of resources.
maybe i don't deserve anything. i am just an idiot brooding over nothing worthwhile, working for nothing worthwhile, feeling ridiculous inner rage for nothing. why do i even exist?
it's cold. can't feel much anymore.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
...
This be the verse
They fuck you up, your mom and dad
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can
And don't have any kids yourself.
Philip Larkin
Because it is you
Senseless ire – it renders me speechless –
Breeding only rancour, this foul rotting bitterness,
And passive aggression:
Shrouded in absolute silence.
For two decades, hopefully less –
I have fed these, my blasphemous demons, in secret,
Dumped my grating, screeching, seething convulsions of base emotion
Frequently, fearfully,
Into this well of repression
Dug deeply, violently, desperately buried countless evils
In the name of gratitude, love, or some sacred right you claim.
At times, when rendered helpless victim –
Because I was never born equipped nor taught
How to wrestle with your wills,
Or find reason and calm in our miniscule battles
Only to succumb or withdraw in hatred –
That the buried wrath would not corrode the love that should be
Detangle itself from the roiling struggle.
I am forced to face –
Proximity breeds contempt, indeed,
You probably feel the same anyway –
Every round cracks open the fault-line, breaks the restraints
Threatens to engulf me in frenzied rage
But I turn away
And run.
Though not before condemnation
Fiend I am, though fiend I toil not to be
In your eyes I question my existence, what I am, how, and why.
This skin-crawling gaping maw we own cannot be denied.
I only strive to hide my hideous anger behind
The wall we have built between us
And pray for some parody of cold war –
This ironic harmonious silence – may it prevail
In these moments of bleak rationale,
All amounts to nothing.
Is both Problem and Solution.
While Blood, which we share
Only confuses with its tainted complexity,
Forbidden as It is to be shed.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
The Price and Pricelessness of Bliss
It's been a long verbal emptiness for 2 months, a strangely comfortable void among the morphing spaces within my so-called intellect. Funny how one can think in pure visuals without words, sort of like lyric-less MTV. The scary thing is how we, the X/Y/IT generation - whatever you refer to us (the TV/Internet savvy generation) as - tend to have thought processes eerily akin to what we have grown up watching: jerky, randomised visuals arranged to form messages, priming our brains to draw meaning from all the pre-wired cues learnt through repetitive flashes of sound and image.
Are we more brainwashed than we will ever know? Ignorance is bliss, then.
Anyway, I'm just being distracted and rambling, as usual.
The points I originally wanted to record through this post were:
1. about how my personal happiness levels right now are surreal yet ambiguously bittersweet...
2. commentary about the death of a figure of authority who had a huge impact on my life, psychologically, emotionally, and literally, a teacher who broke my spirit and killed my youth...
3. musings about living 2 lives in 2 countries and how the twain shalt never meet, and how that distresses me...
4. how love is blissful, of course...
5. and nostalgia, and how some memories flood back in a strange way...
Well then. As my thought processes have gone distinctly Powerpoint Presentation-like...
Part 1+3+4:
As always, love casts a glow over all aspects of life, and as long as he's around and near, it seems like things will always turn out alright and I will be able to laugh heartily and be carefree.
Being away in AU makes life so much harder, simply because being alone and having to deal personally with all problems without having any support system to fall back on, be it physically or emotionally, truly renders one helpless and depressed sometimes. Distance does cause pain, that is something we cannot deny. Loneliness equals vulnerability as well. Friends are not dependable - who wants to always have to listen to a whining, whinging yapper - so in the end everything falls back onto one's lousy shoulders.
I have a separated life, something exacted by choice, the burden of which is solely mine, and in both lives I seem to be unable to truly belong. Maybe my mind or psyche is coming apart, struggling to cope with what I cannot control. In each life there are deep-seated issues that cause way too much distress to explain in so many words. I escape from one to the other but find no balance. When it boils down to the core of all this internal turmoil - me - what can I do for myself to improve the situation? Other than grit my teeth and find the raw inner willpower, blind faith, instinctive drive for survival and just the bloody guts to break through, I'm pretty much trapped on both grounds, though on different terms and conditions.
Right now my guts are lurching, my willpower seems to be drowning in a sludge-pit of depression and tears, and I just wish so hard that flat pictures and memories of bliss can help me to pull through, even as they remind me of the emptiness and foolish self-inflicted loneliness I have here and now.
In the end, I guess this much is factual about being human. We want substance, accountability, tangible material things that we can count and relish, and really it's all bullshit we come up with to make ourselves look "professional" and powerful, a cover-up for the shallowness of our lives where we resolutely sidestep deep thought about how exactly we are treating each other. So we can be as cruel, heartless and uncaring as all the grey areas in morals and ethics can allow, so that we can kill each other for personal glory, so that we can put down another to proclaim superiority.
And all this reminds me of Mrs Leicester, who is dead!
Death is the great "equaliser" of man, is it not? Death makes all man either ash or fertiliser. Does that not mean that perhaps the higher powers simply impose Life upon us as a great extended joke, a game in a game, one that we play against each other, within one where They play us?
Are we more brainwashed than we will ever know? Ignorance is bliss, then.
Anyway, I'm just being distracted and rambling, as usual.
The points I originally wanted to record through this post were:
1. about how my personal happiness levels right now are surreal yet ambiguously bittersweet...
2. commentary about the death of a figure of authority who had a huge impact on my life, psychologically, emotionally, and literally, a teacher who broke my spirit and killed my youth...
3. musings about living 2 lives in 2 countries and how the twain shalt never meet, and how that distresses me...
4. how love is blissful, of course...
5. and nostalgia, and how some memories flood back in a strange way...
Well then. As my thought processes have gone distinctly Powerpoint Presentation-like...
Part 1+3+4:
As always, love casts a glow over all aspects of life, and as long as he's around and near, it seems like things will always turn out alright and I will be able to laugh heartily and be carefree.
Being away in AU makes life so much harder, simply because being alone and having to deal personally with all problems without having any support system to fall back on, be it physically or emotionally, truly renders one helpless and depressed sometimes. Distance does cause pain, that is something we cannot deny. Loneliness equals vulnerability as well. Friends are not dependable - who wants to always have to listen to a whining, whinging yapper - so in the end everything falls back onto one's lousy shoulders.
I have a separated life, something exacted by choice, the burden of which is solely mine, and in both lives I seem to be unable to truly belong. Maybe my mind or psyche is coming apart, struggling to cope with what I cannot control. In each life there are deep-seated issues that cause way too much distress to explain in so many words. I escape from one to the other but find no balance. When it boils down to the core of all this internal turmoil - me - what can I do for myself to improve the situation? Other than grit my teeth and find the raw inner willpower, blind faith, instinctive drive for survival and just the bloody guts to break through, I'm pretty much trapped on both grounds, though on different terms and conditions.
Right now my guts are lurching, my willpower seems to be drowning in a sludge-pit of depression and tears, and I just wish so hard that flat pictures and memories of bliss can help me to pull through, even as they remind me of the emptiness and foolish self-inflicted loneliness I have here and now.
In the end, I guess this much is factual about being human. We want substance, accountability, tangible material things that we can count and relish, and really it's all bullshit we come up with to make ourselves look "professional" and powerful, a cover-up for the shallowness of our lives where we resolutely sidestep deep thought about how exactly we are treating each other. So we can be as cruel, heartless and uncaring as all the grey areas in morals and ethics can allow, so that we can kill each other for personal glory, so that we can put down another to proclaim superiority.
And all this reminds me of Mrs Leicester, who is dead!
Death is the great "equaliser" of man, is it not? Death makes all man either ash or fertiliser. Does that not mean that perhaps the higher powers simply impose Life upon us as a great extended joke, a game in a game, one that we play against each other, within one where They play us?
Friday, November 09, 2007
Polyvore Whoring
Can't believe I spent hours on this!!!
Am perpetually a dress-for-fall person. Don't really like spring/summer floral girly dressy stuff.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Phobia Acquisitions
Over the years I've subconsciously become afraid of a couple of situations, which recently became slightly paradoxical (at least I think so):
I am discomforted by being forced to stand still and be enclosed in a public space with too many people. This applies to being in a crowded lift or a crowded train cabin, for example, or perhaps in a small club which has too many people squeezed in it. Or a toilet queue in a public restroom that is in great demand...the list goes on. I would much prefer to take the trouble and make the distance to get some space. What phobia is this? A combination of claustrophobia and agoraphobia, perhaps...but I don't go hysterical or froth in the mouth, though, just feel a little sick in the stomach and breathless sometimes. It gets worse when I'm under a lot of stress...heh Tony Soprano comes to mind...excuse my obscure references.
I recently realised that I'm not comfortable with silence in an enclosed space either. Living alone has its perks, of course, but I've taken to having the television on just for background noise, and I much prefer monotonously speaking/conversing human voices, such as the news going on incessantly in the back of my head, rather than MTV or some drama/film which will have the inevitable attention-seeking sound effects and screaming here and there. Music is fine, but I tend to get distracted by lyrics too. Bother my selective hearing!
Perhaps this is the process of urban hermitisation...I'm turning into a television-dependent hermit (as if I'm not already dependent on the TV, good grief!)...
Plus I'm a chronic channel-surfer, woe upon anyone who watches TV with me!!! My "click-interval" is approximately 3 seconds...horrific eh...*sheepish laughter*
I am discomforted by being forced to stand still and be enclosed in a public space with too many people. This applies to being in a crowded lift or a crowded train cabin, for example, or perhaps in a small club which has too many people squeezed in it. Or a toilet queue in a public restroom that is in great demand...the list goes on. I would much prefer to take the trouble and make the distance to get some space. What phobia is this? A combination of claustrophobia and agoraphobia, perhaps...but I don't go hysterical or froth in the mouth, though, just feel a little sick in the stomach and breathless sometimes. It gets worse when I'm under a lot of stress...heh Tony Soprano comes to mind...excuse my obscure references.
I recently realised that I'm not comfortable with silence in an enclosed space either. Living alone has its perks, of course, but I've taken to having the television on just for background noise, and I much prefer monotonously speaking/conversing human voices, such as the news going on incessantly in the back of my head, rather than MTV or some drama/film which will have the inevitable attention-seeking sound effects and screaming here and there. Music is fine, but I tend to get distracted by lyrics too. Bother my selective hearing!
Perhaps this is the process of urban hermitisation...I'm turning into a television-dependent hermit (as if I'm not already dependent on the TV, good grief!)...
Plus I'm a chronic channel-surfer, woe upon anyone who watches TV with me!!! My "click-interval" is approximately 3 seconds...horrific eh...*sheepish laughter*
Monday, September 24, 2007
Mindless Blathering Idiocy
Sometimes we cannot over-estimate the intimacy of understanding with people...it takes a while to get on the same wavelength, even longer to figure out a person's nature, personality, and sense of humour.
And that also applies to forgiveness. Often we can never tell how willing a person can be to forgive a wrong committed, or how willing he or she is to care.
Many a time when I speak before I think, it kills me to writhe internally when I spend the rest of the time afterward in agony about apologising, making amends, trying in vain to erase the error and fade the offence or insult. Has it got to do with low emotional intelligence or blatant insensitivity? Or is it a desire to cross lines, invade, and attack, an almost flippant love of risk and danger, even on an emotional level?
Then later on, if it seems to have been a whole horrible roller coaster of guilt and regret suffered for nothing, I wonder at my own neurosis and fear of rejection. Is it valid to be so self-absorbed?
Ah what foolishness, then. Does this make me lovable at all?
Oh bother.
And that also applies to forgiveness. Often we can never tell how willing a person can be to forgive a wrong committed, or how willing he or she is to care.
Many a time when I speak before I think, it kills me to writhe internally when I spend the rest of the time afterward in agony about apologising, making amends, trying in vain to erase the error and fade the offence or insult. Has it got to do with low emotional intelligence or blatant insensitivity? Or is it a desire to cross lines, invade, and attack, an almost flippant love of risk and danger, even on an emotional level?
Then later on, if it seems to have been a whole horrible roller coaster of guilt and regret suffered for nothing, I wonder at my own neurosis and fear of rejection. Is it valid to be so self-absorbed?
Ah what foolishness, then. Does this make me lovable at all?
Oh bother.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Vacation Nostalgia II
more gorgeous shots of Amsterdam - the Village they brought us to was a tourist trap, but so bloody worth it.
Vacation Nostalgia
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Lucerne, Switzerland
I guess this is the whole point of being trigger happy* during vacations in far flung places. Looking back and wondering why the heck you left.
*= Taking 1000 photos in 9 days.
.etc...ramblings (Impulsive Keyboard Fingering)
For those who refuse to believe in any Higher Power, there's always the way things seem out of your grasp when you least desire that sense of helplessness.
You grumble to yourself about how shit happens and life's an asshole, but what about your own responsibility?
Are we shifting way too much blame on others simply because we underestimate our own ability to change life as we know it - simply by tweaking our perspective and initiating some form of action that deviates from whatever track we've been trudging on, for as long as we know it?
A comfort zone is also a complaint zone, perhaps?
You grumble to yourself about how shit happens and life's an asshole, but what about your own responsibility?
Are we shifting way too much blame on others simply because we underestimate our own ability to change life as we know it - simply by tweaking our perspective and initiating some form of action that deviates from whatever track we've been trudging on, for as long as we know it?
A comfort zone is also a complaint zone, perhaps?
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
WTF
Got gamergeeks for neighbours who persist in maxing out their excellent sound system and creating a pounding headache for folk who share walls with them. Fucking dickheads. Well, that first-person shooting game had better rot your brains man. Go blind, drop dead, may your console kill you.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Buncha Cool Linkzzz
http://www.rosestmarket.com.au/ (I MUST go to this place!)
http://www.indie.com.au/index.php
http://www.easternmarket.com.au (seems to be in my district, must go hunt for this shop!)
http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5050420 (such Lurvely stuff!!!)
http://www.teetonic.com/ (the UK version of Threadless?)
http://www.rubylane.com/shops/gelseysgracedesigns/ilist/,id=0.html (more nice jewellery)
Etsy is super!
http://www.indie.com.au/index.php
http://www.easternmarket.com.au (seems to be in my district, must go hunt for this shop!)
http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5050420 (such Lurvely stuff!!!)
http://www.teetonic.com/ (the UK version of Threadless?)
http://www.rubylane.com/shops/gelseysgracedesigns/ilist/,id=0.html (more nice jewellery)
Etsy is super!
Buncha Cool Linkzzz
http://www.rosestmarket.com.au/ (I MUST go to this place!)
http://www.indie.com.au/index.php
http://www.easternmarket.com.au (seems to be in my district, must go hunt for this shop!)
http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5050420 (such Lurvely stuff!!!)
http://www.teetonic.com/ (the UK version of Threadless?)
http://www.rubylane.com/shops/gelseysgracedesigns/ilist/,id=0.html (more nice jewellery)
Etsy is super!
http://www.indie.com.au/index.php
http://www.easternmarket.com.au (seems to be in my district, must go hunt for this shop!)
http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5050420 (such Lurvely stuff!!!)
http://www.teetonic.com/ (the UK version of Threadless?)
http://www.rubylane.com/shops/gelseysgracedesigns/ilist/,id=0.html (more nice jewellery)
Etsy is super!
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
handiwork 2: Butterfly Tribal Links
Antique Silver Metallic Charm Necklace: a current fav...'twas fun to assemble!
Recent Acts of Cookery (does that make sense?!)
Steak on Corn 'n' Carrot (YUM.)
VegeHamCheese Omelette with Cherry Tomatoes
Veal 'n' Bok Choy Stir Fry on Ramen
French Toast Delux (with fresh mushrooms, cheese, & ham)
Veal Vege 'n' Mushroom Pasta Spirals
LOL...yep, I've been feeding myself well, I think...at least within the past fortnight or so!
I've been good lately; I do believe I'm the sort of person who definitely cannot cook under stress. So...I need to be completely relaxed to whip up (relatively) good-looking stuff, meaning if there're deadlines and more important things to do (than cook), it'd probably be better to eat a take-out...otherwise, there's always vague-tasty crap-shit-mush I guess. Notes for anyone who'd like to eat/live with me...
This fact alone, I do realise, proves me completely incompetent for any Iron Chef-like situation (stress+time limits+other constraints+me cooking = Oh The Horror Of What's In The Pot)
......Well, blindfolding dinner guests is always a last resort option, I guess......lol.
handiwork 1
Presenting the Lantern-Cube-Doughnut-Loop!!!
what do you think?
well, a person with no ear-holes making earrings is quite the irony, isn't it?
how much do girls usually pay for ear-jinglies? I have no buggered idea man...
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Food food more food...
Alright folks (are you even there???!!!), all this time (2 months, I know!) I've been really too busy or stressed out to cook myself anything decent looking, so what you're getting to look at now is probably rather outdated dishes I managed to whip up maybe a month or more ago for a friend dining in or something like that. I've not updated this blog for a long while either! Oh well...what I know is that the stuff I'm whipping up right now, looks like poop. SERIOUSLY. Tasty shit, that's what I'm cooking!
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This is Teddy&MonsterLuvStew!!!
Mysterious Cheesy Egg...
Gorgeous-looking (but unfortunately undercooked) Chicken Maryland which I made for myself and a classmate who dropped by...
Alright, I was in a good mood when I made this...Chicken Stir-fry on boiled veggies...
Hmmm, are there any more? We'll see...
(You know, food is such a comfort-related psychological root, especially when you live alone. It's a sign of survival, whether you have a well-stocked larder, (or not) and it makes me feel that I can take care of myself when I make decisions on what food I buy to put in my fridge...but I take bloody long to make those decisions!)
.
.
.
.
.
.
This is Teddy&MonsterLuvStew!!!
Mysterious Cheesy Egg...
Gorgeous-looking (but unfortunately undercooked) Chicken Maryland which I made for myself and a classmate who dropped by...
Alright, I was in a good mood when I made this...Chicken Stir-fry on boiled veggies...
Hmmm, are there any more? We'll see...
(You know, food is such a comfort-related psychological root, especially when you live alone. It's a sign of survival, whether you have a well-stocked larder, (or not) and it makes me feel that I can take care of myself when I make decisions on what food I buy to put in my fridge...but I take bloody long to make those decisions!)
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