Just over one dinner, she established many little details I have always wished not to portray during interaction. I guess some things are just rooted in the air around you.
I had dinner with a friend a couple of nights ago (I cannot remember exactly when it was … you know, busy people) and had a very pleasurable time. So, mate, thank you for your good cheers. Maybe its due to the fact that we still have fairly little knowledge of each other, maybe its because it’s a new found friendship, maybe it’s the sincerity or maybe even not all these – I do not know. But, there is just something I find rather mysterious about the interaction, some sort of abstract magnetism I cannot explain myself.

I mean, how many of us come have come across such fortune of stumbling across someone you can share so much of your thoughts with, someone you’ve been speaking to barely a month and can identify with immediately as a friend. Friendships are built upon pillars like trust, respect and to a certain extent, a play of fate. Much of these come from time – days, months and years of slow progress in self-discovery and discovery of a companion. We take time (well, at least I do) to assure ourselves that we know a friend when we see one and hopefully build up the all little understandings we need to maintain a friendship.

But, again, how many, just how many of us would just get struck with a friend out of a clear blue sky? I do not know. Perhaps I’m exaggerating a little about the least of possibilities of something like that happening. Things like that don’t usually happen to me. Friends are not friends in a month’s time.

I’m deviating a little too much here. Where was I …?
Ah … the dinner.

Just over one dinner, so much of me was exposed. We have a history of speaking to each other for only a month online before the dinner and only have met each other the night before (or something like that). Yet, the conversation we engaged into was something I haven’t done in quite a while. You see, I’m not overly fond of verbal communication, obviously, that is, clearly not my domain. So, I give her full credits for making me speak the way I do only when I’m around my friends. On top of that, she probably didn’t have a very good time since she had to endure much of my topics about literature, insipid visions of the future and complaints about movies. So, again, my sincere apologies and thanks for your good cheers. Ah, now, you see why people don’t talk so much to me, don’t you?

The impression I have so carelessly established in her:

1. I am not a snob but there is much arrogance in the character with grave amount of pride.
2. I am highly defensive.
3. I want to be a lotus eater (derived from my insipid visions of a preferable future).
4. I’m very, if not, too analytical about things said.
5. I watch slow movies.
6. I'm a sloth.

The impression she has so carefully established in me:

1. She appears to me to be very driven, although not entirely focused, but definitely very driven.
2. She has a pleasant soul and character on a whole.
3. Her dreams … well, are rather … (loss of words)
4. She watches crap movies.
5. She complaints a lot more than I do.
6. There is severe sense of pride. Mate, pride kills.

Again, it comes across me as much mystery that I’d engage in such long conversations about myself. By now, it should have been rather clear that I’m a rather private person with little thoughts of my own. I cannot tell for sure if it’s our similarities or if it’s our differences that keep this thing going. For me, it’s just rare to find someone tolerating my incessant complaints (mainly due to the fact that she complains a hell load more than I do), my thoughts on literature (which many have found to be rather … dry) and my immense sense of arrogance.

Perhaps, I’m the only party here that feels the whole finding strange. Perchance, I’m the only one amazed by the pleasure I find in conversations with her. Maybe, only I am being overly critical again. I cannot tell for sure. So, on my part, I can only thank you for your patience, time and cheers.

Hmm …



Cheerio mates.

[[ music ]] Frank Sinatra & Tony Bennett - I'll Be Seeing You
[[ mood ]] drained

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Very often there are vast distinctions between the life you are living and the life you want to live. Obviously, one belongs in the world of fantasy and hopes – distant, remote and almost unattainable. The other – realistic, practical, living and almost inescapable. I am confined and restricted by the conventions that have been built over decades. I have come to believe we all are and there is little we can do about it. Perhaps some of you feel less the presence of the norms, regulations, rules, laws and customs of society, their presence has never cease to appear in my subconscious mind. Somehow, someway, what I do, how I think, what I feel would be affected by these conventions. And, who am I to say that these are all but restrictions that hinder creativity of the mind? Certainly, these conventions have established its position over the years although its effectiveness can be questioned.

I’m not a fan of rules. Yet, I know without them, society shall lack the order it needs to progress. After all, I think we can all come to agree that human behaviour, more than anything else in the world needs to be governed. However, the question here remains to be governed by what and governed by who would be best. I do not wish to dwell into details as to who should govern the society. It is too heavy to be discussed here and I lack the capacity and knowledge to do so.

I don’t like writing bleak entries and I do not enjoy the fact that you have to share the same sort of burden. I can only offer my sincere apologies. As much as I like to add humour and life into the blog, my thoughts serve as a form of hindrance.

As I was saying …

The life I am living and the life I want to live has vast differences. The reality provide me with the most responsibilities I like least – going to college, completing my homework, staying away from drugs and alcohol, getting good grades; all of which are exhausting and bruising mentally, emotionally and physically. Perhaps it all seems like a hyperbole but I have no deliberate intention to exaggerate; some things just have more weight to me than to you. The life I want to live on the other hand … I really am not sure. After all, I know I’m not living it just yet.

Should I live such a life however …

I’d like to think of myself lying on a white bed in a white room. Somehow, I suppose it makes everything feel lighter, more pleasurable with no haste. Or, I could be lying on plain fields with no horizons, space – lots of space.

I’ll enlighten you on those visions some other time.

Such contrast, a vision of two worlds. Reality hurts – I suppose? At the moment, there’s too much haste. Every thing appears to me to be moving in rapidity that’s beyond my capacity. Time appears to me to be simply out of control – the hands on the clock turning and turning and turning. Perhaps, the swiftness of life is not meant to be followed, perhaps I’m simply too slow – I don’t know. And, I’m not sure if I want to know.
What I do know, however, is that the white bed in the empty white room looks good and only visions of it offer me the brief and momentary seconds of delight which I have come to believe I’m a little desperate for.

[[ music ]] Gavin Degraw - Chariot
[[ book ]] Antony and Cleopatra - William Shakespeare
[[ mood ]] tired

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"Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signigying nothing."


William Shakespeare
(Mac 5.5.24-8)

[[ mood ]] tired

2 comments

Perhaps it is when you are entrapped by complexities that you begin to search for simplicity. Perchance it is when you are constrained by responsibilities that visions of a white bed in a white room becomes so appealing, so tempting. Conceivably, situations we tend to yearn for always seem out of reach, remote and distant – just like trying to seize the smoke from a fire with your bare hands. Then again, if these situations are within my capacity to grasp, would I be able to cope with that simplicity I've always claimed that I am desperate for?

We live in a world governed by reasons. Every action comes along with consequences. They are complementary, I believe. But, you and I are humans and I have come to believe that we are governed by passion. To balance passion and reason is a Herculean task – certainly not a task everyone is capable of achieving.

I am accustomed to doing what I know is right and any deviation from such thoughts are inadvertent and happens at the spur of the moment. It feels a little like being strike by a lightning out of the clear blue sky. Things like this happen and as much reason as I have, I could not avoid such circumstances. And when reason strikes you again, some actions are always regrettable.

Reason governs you when you take every step while being conscious of the consequences that follow. It is safe. It is sound. It’s probably right as well. But, if I have to think so carefully of what I do all the time, what chances are there exactly that I’m going to act upon my passion and not reason?

I like acting on instinct. I suppose you can derive a lot of that from passion. And, I am aware of the fact that, scientifically, humans are not beings with instincts. They probably call it biological drive or a reflexive reaction or reaction of chemicals or even effects of hormones. I don’t care. I am no science freak.

As much as I like to act based on my passion, reason forbids me to do so. And, as much as I like to act based on reason, passion shall work its magic. They are complementary and almost inseparable. And, any action based solely on any one of them usually results to pain and regret.

I have come to accept that some of the best decisions I have had to make are based solely on reason. Yet, I also do acknowledge the idea that the same decisions are probably the worst I’ve made. Because, somewhere hidden in the folds of your heart, depths of your veins, you know reason cannot overthrow passion. I have also come to a conclusion that one of the best and worst decisions I’ve made is a direct effect of passion.

The painful fact here is not whether you’ve made your decision based on reason or passion. Instead, it’s probably the idea that the past is irrevocably tied to the present and the present to the future. Time works in a single continuum. And, every action leads to consequences. At the end of the day, I suppose, passion can never completely overshadow reason and reason can never hinder the interruption of passion in decisions.

[[ music ]] James Last - La Golondrina
[[ book ]] Antony and Cleopatra - William Shakespeare
[[ mood ]] tired

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“If people could put rainbows in zoos, they’d do it.”
- Bill Watterson (Calvin & Hobbes)

I suppose that’s how people are like, eh? Always yearning to put the splendor of nature in captivity. It’s a rather disturbing desire I must say …

[[ mood ]] contemplative

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WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD
(George Weiss / Bob Thiele)

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?"
They're really saying "I love you"

I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll ever know
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world
Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world

Oh yeah

***

Some things don’t last. They aren’t meant to; that is why they are so dear. You just never know when they will slip of your fingers and when they will grab your arm by surprise. Like the colors of a rainbow, the bloom upon a flower – they are all momentary, brief and never lasting. Almost deceptive. Almost illusory. Yet, it all seems so close at heart.

For certain things, you get a second go, a subsequent opportunity, a consequent shot at an attempt to safeguard the brief moments of voluntary deception. Just like how you can wait for the next rain and hope for a rainbow and wait for the next spring to watch the flowers bloom again. But, there are some other things that lose its essence as time passes. There aren’t any second chances, following attempts and later occasions.

The question here, however, is how much time exactly do we have to learn that even rainbows are rare and that every spring is different?

Cheerio mates.

[[ music ]] Henry Mancini - Victor/Victoria Theme
[[ book ]] William Shakespeare - Antony and Cleopatra
[[ mood ]] tired

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I think I have delayed this long enough (I was simply too much of a sloth to write).
I need to extend my appreciation towards those who made a conscious effort of remembering my birthday. I appreciate that. Gifts and greetings are very much appreciated …
More importantly than that, I cannot express enough how delighted I am with your company, cheers and thoughts. So, thank you mates.

***

I am confined by the time I am left with to prepare for the trials. Please excuse the rare updates. I can only offer my most sincere apologies. I shall make a conscious effort to write as often as time permits. (Honestly ... I think I'd still be here ranting about the exams!)

Cheers.

[[ book ]] William Shakespeare - Antony and Cleopatra
[[ mood ]] blah

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Maybe it is just my blemished consciousness, but WHY THE DEVIL IS NOONE UPDATING THEIR BLOGS?

I’m being a little dramatic – again. This is an issue that needs attention. Alright, maybe I am not updating all that often as well. That leaves me little right to complain, doesn’t it? Well, I’m quite certain you don’t have to do 3 law essays a night, 7 literature analyses in a week, 20 law essays (I have 17 left) by the end of the month. So, by right, that leaves you even less excuse to not update your respective blogs!

Ok …

So the news about Jude Law and the nanny is all over the tabloids – natural. It has happened to the president of America, the Prince of Wales, England’s football manager, Hugh Grant, David Beckham etc. Why not Jude? In fact, Jude’s probably the most charming of them all. So, let's just stop pretending it's the news. Men! I don’t see why Sienna is getting all worked out over Jude. Things like this happen especially if you’re dating the sexiest man alive.

I’m not going to go all feminist here. I think you get the picture. But what use is a holy matrimonial or a legal document stating your marital status or the whole extravagant idea of a marriage ceremony in a church and later followed by a dance ball if the marriage is not going to last. What purpose is there to have the whole country celebrate your engagement and have BBC, ABC, CBC or CNN broadcast your wedding to the whole world when it is nothing but a momentary display of formality?

Well … I hold no grudges against all the parties and exaggerated celebrations of marriage. It’s important. After all, how many times can you get married in a lifetime? Once? Well, in the case of Prince Charles, twice and in the case of J. Lo, thrice. I am not against the number of times one can get married and divorced – your privilege, your right, your life. In the case of celebrities and politicians, your marriages and divorces and even your fight for custody for children and court battles for property provide us normal people with the humour on the tabloids. We enjoy reading them.

Maybe it is because of my current careful (but tedious) study of Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra that is sparking off all this unnecessary emotions. It just appears to me that politics and fame cannot be separated with extra marital affairs and adulterous conducts of the males (no offense). Again, we’ve seen it in the time of Plutarch to Shakespeare to Clinton to Jude. It happens – again and again and again and again – a vicious cycle.

What follows the exposure of the shameful (or so it seems) conduct is usually a public apology, expression of regret, portrayal of repent and beseech for forgiveness. Again – natural and nothing fresh. We’ve seen some get over the whole thing rather easily, well, on the surface at least. The Beckhams are still Beckhams. The Clintons are still Clintons. This just seem all to familiar to me now that news about affairs no longer has the attraction it used to. It’s everywhere.

The idea or marriage just seem all too frail and fragile to me. It is momentary. It is brief. It is short-lived. It is old. Again, I stress, I have nothing against marriages. I think they are fine, just not as fine as they used to be.

Cheerio.

[[ music ]] Robbie Williams - Eternity
[[ book ]] William Shakespeare - Antony and Cleopatra
[[ mood ]] working

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Apparently, my emotional plea for you to update your blogs has been utterly ignored and unreservedly dismissed (again).

***

When one needs to battle against time to get things done, you would not feel so well at the end of it. When one does not feel so well, there shall be continuous battles to fight the running nose, the falling eyelids and the incessant yawns. I do not wish to rant about the homework issue. I know you are pretty much sick of it, so am I, but there has been nothing else that holds my attention longer than work can. And, frankly dear, I don’t like it.

I like Shakespeare. Shakespeare, however, doesn’t seem to like me very much. The amount of scenes he writes for one act is enough to occupy my whole weekend, which, initially, was not intended for quiet mornings, silent afternoons, still evenings and hushed nights of continuous analysis. Shakespeare is an extraordinary playwright. I certainly do not believe anyone can deny that. No one in the history of English Literature, dare I say, shall have such grasp of human emotion as Shakespeare does.

At the moment, I am studying about the consequences of adulterous conduct of a respectable Roman general in Antony and Cleopatra. Technically, the adulterous issue is really a minor part of the play, but you get what I mean. Again, I like Shakespeare. It is Shakespeare that does not seem to be agreeable with me. Honestly, my brain is too tired to think of the dynamics in which the Second Triumvirate works. Politics aren’t exactly the cup of tea for one who does not feel all too well.

Damn … my nose is blocked.

As I was saying, all this political and military concerns that surround Antony and Cleopatra is becoming a little tedious to me. I am seriously getting bored with the amount of thinking I have to do when reading every line. And, they say plays are for entertainment! Obviously, those who make such a blemished claim have either never studied literature or made to do a scene by scene (almost line by line) analysis or they have forgotten the times of hard labour when they did it.

You see, continuous pondering over why Shakespeare has done this and why hasn’t he done otherwise is not painless. Shakespeare has his reasons and obviously he hasn’t written a separate book why he has structured and juxtaposition every scene the way it is now. All that, is left to my interpretation now.

Well … now I have to complete 7 analyses and 1 essay on Act II by Tuesday. Not funny! All these continuous Shakespeare thing is getting to my head. Some people tend to undermine English Literature, suggesting that it’s an easy subject. I hope you are not one of them because I am just about to call them morons.

Then again, in spite of all this incessant expression of tedium and frustration, it is tickling to see how the class has adopted Shakespeare into our lives. We quote Shakespeare now. Well, technically, Shakespeare is much better at obscured cussing than most of us … so, we do have a natural tendency to learn that bit of the text more carefully.

Oh well ...
Work is work and work needs to be done.
Cheerio mates.

[[ music ]] The Legend of 1900 OST - Lost Boys Calling
[[ mood ]] lethargic

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"If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour!"

William Shakespeare
Twelfth Night (Act I Scene I)

[[ mood ]] sleepy

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When one starts posting Shakespearean quotes on a blog, it is a of desperation for not knowing what to write (although, I have to say, I love the opening of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night). And, when posts a Donne Holy Sonnet, it is an even more explicit sign of desperation. Yes, so … I am here, staring, staring and staring into the screen … with little idea of what the next sentence would be.


Death, Be Not Proud
John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

***

There … blank.

It is difficult to write when your life revolves around a routine you pray day and night to get out of. Horrible excuse … I know. I just cannot think of anything else at the moment … so that’ll do (for now).

Well, mates … cut me some slack! I did post a really nice poem for you to make up for my … sudden lost of touch with the normal writings. I can do little about that!

My apologies.

[[ mood ]] blank

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Life is unfair. You and I know it.
So, for goodness sake, live with it!
And stop complaining.
Frankly, dear, I don’t give a damn.

Stop telling me things are unfair.


Equality has, in history, always failed to exist. Parity has, in character, ceased to live. Fairness has, in reality, not succeeded to survive. Justice is blind, and in its blindness, it has caused much nuisance and inflicted much pain. Perhaps if justice has eyes, equality, parity and fairness would have a glimpse of hope for survival.

***

[[ music ]] A1 - Walking in the Rain
[[ mood ]] sore

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Promises - easily made, easily broken.

[[ mood ]] tired

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