It seems to me that there's not much point in putting blogs up because they serve the dual purpose of ranting and updating my sordid life, and my visitors only come for one reason or the other. Therefore, after some uncognitive late-night blog-reading inspiration, I dedicate the following passage to my blog visitors.
on ENTER
if ($mind == important&event) /begin blog
elseif ($mind == important&thought) /begin rant
else goto :end
[Boring byline, introduction to thought of the day] Blah, blah, blah, bleh, bleh, meh meh meh. [Recap, recap, pause after utter boredom of recap]. [Wanders off to read something more interesting] [Returns after 5 minutes] Blah, blah. Blah, blah BLAH blah. Blah! Blah, blah, *grumble*, blah, sigh. [Filler, filler, filler material]. [Sudden change in train of thought] [Conversational filler] Blah, blah, blah, wah wah wah, blah.
[Angry blah, followed by increased speed in typing] Blah, blah, BLAH, [blah morphs into a rant]. Rant, rant, rant! Whine, complain, rant, [directed anger at some other whiner], [hypocritical declaration], [hypothesis], [disturbing lack of evidence for hypothesis], [sweeping statement], Rant, rant, rant, whine. Growl, rant, blah, rant, [obligatory reach for empathy from reader] whine, whine, blah blah blah, rant.
[re-reads stuff so far] [decision to argue for opposite view, thereby demonstrating complete non-commitedness to any view] [Right. Hypocritical statements] [Winds down argument] [Insertion of "It doesn't matter in the end" mantra, not to be confused with "Why do I even bother?" mantra] Blah. blah.... blah. blahblah... blah.
[strange unrelated statement]
[insertion of song/poem to echo current state of mind] [memo to self to hate all other bloggers]
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
It seems to me that some people take a lot of trouble just to make themselves unhappy. Make that a lot of people. Has our world become so screwed up that being depressed is normal? Why is it that they want to concentrate on the things that make them upset?
We've changed into a generation of masochists. Maybe it's because we live in such an affluent age. We don't have to hunt for our food. Or worry about shelter. So then we spend time thinking of ways that life isn't good. Then we wonder how we can make it better, and sometimes we can't, or won't, and just don't see the answers. We sit and stare and wonder what life means to us, and pick on the little worries that should mean nothing in the face of the larger troubles. We think of disturbing questions that depress like who am I, and what do I want? What is friendship really? Love isn't an artificial concept, nor is it entirely natural, does it even exist?
Then we pass this on to our friends and everyone sinks deeper and deeper into depression.
I'm tired. I'm bloody tired of people like that. don't get me wrong, I believe it's quite commendable to start focusing on yourself and what a truly unworthy person you are. It's divine that you're worried about the world's problems and how it's just so hopeless. And the way you theorized that everyone is out to get you and life is unfair and just not worth it? Lovely. So what do you do now? Wallow some more? Give up? Or do you just forget about it and move on?
Which is it?
So maybe I'm naive. Maybe I'm blissfully unaware of the more noble aspects of pondering the fate of all humanity and if the good of this world is going down the pipes. You can rail and berate me for being selfish and not caring. You can say that my happiness is spurious and incomplete. Say I’m superficial.
I don’t care. If that’s another reason to fuel your ire, again…I don't care. Who's being delusional here? You or me? I believe in my own happiness, I believe in concentrating in things that achieve this. I believe if that it's not really important, it doesn't matter. You can believe that there are things bigger than yourself, things that require your attention, your consideration. You believe that little things matter because you believe they build up. You worry about other people and read deeply between the lines so you don't miss anything.
We can rail at each forever, and try to change each other's thoughts, but I ask, why? Are you really right? Am I wrong? How do you tell?
If those questions don't stop you from bugging me, I think nothing will. If you ever find whatever you're looking for, tell me, and I'll be happy for you, and we can finally both be happy.
On a lighter note, I painted my toe nails pearly white.
I'm looking for scores to Michael Nyman's The Piano. I also feel like revamping this page.
THE WERE BITCH PROJECT
" Were Bitch - (Iracundia canicula) - Persons afflicted with this ailment (Pheminous Malicia) turn into bitches (layman term for Iracundia canicula). Symptoms are believed to be related to the fullness of the moon. No known means of cure. Silver has no effect on them. Well, actually, they rather like it. It's the new gold, you know. Chocolate and warm drinks believed to have calming effect on these creatures with caustic verbosity.
The Were-Bitch Project is headed by Jan Ancepson with a team of Anger Management Specialists (Amspec), all well-versed in the Pheminous Malicia Syndrome (PMS).They will attempt to track down and demystify this not-so-elusive creature..."
Dang. I'm lame. So lame.
:: nimezs @ 1:24 am [+] ::
...
Whee! Prac exams over. My song of the week is "Hold on hope" by Guided by Voices. Heard it on Scrubs and I think it's not bad. Mellow listening for night.
Every street is dark
And folding out mysteriously
Where lies the chance we take to be
Always working
Reaching out for a hand that we
can't see
Everybody's got a hold on hope
It's the last thing that's holding me
Last week it was Like a Stone, by Audioslave. Oh no. Am I turning into a rock fan? *Hurriedly goes to listen to Britney Spears* Okay, I'm not. I still like pop. Phew.
Kidding. I don't really have any Britney songs. I do like pop though.
Anyway. Prac exam. Stupid Sars. Delayed our performance with the testing temperatures bother. And they wouldn't let our technician in. One calamity after another. The teachers cut our last scene because they were "pressed for time". That really sucked. Of course, it got *P good and pissed, and A good and anxious. Curse the NUS administration. We stood outside and ranted. Ahem. Some third years were distributing party favours. Haha. Okay, not really. Christian students. They prayed for us. How nice of them. Really. I'm agnostic but I'm appreciative. It was really good of them. Made me feel nice and tingly. Hee. And tee hee.
Good grief, no they weren't male and they weren't good looking. Well, actually I don't remember.
*Names have been omitted due to the... ubiquitious nature of the Internet.
:: nimezs @ 12:37 am [+] ::
...
:: Sunday, April 13, 2003 ::
Two of my peers have gotten blogs recently. Have visited them. They look good. The blogs. You can visit them to the links on the left.
Why blog? Let me tell you why I did.
I used blogspot to get over rough patches that I had especially last year, but this was because I knew there were very few friends who would come across my blog. I needed to express how I felt, and call me anti-social, but I didn't want them to know what I was going through. I think I mentioned that earlier in one of my posts. Don't want to be judged for things I've done, especially not by people I care about. Sure, it makes me seem a little cold, but I'd rather not be gushy and fallible. I've never broken down in front of anyone, as far as I remember... Usually it's me sorting through my emotions first before I can tell anyone about it, and discuss it rather clinically.
It's just me, I guess. I find it very difficult to open up. Even to close friends. I can tell strangers my problems, but not my friends. It's so weird. But the thing is, you see, only close friends can guess how I'm feeling.
Ah, you see? The moment I start pontificating, I get depressed. Pontification is pointless. Be worry-less and carefree. Don't think. Don't feel. Be that drone that the government wants you to be. It's good and good for you. Big brother knows. Yea.
Meanwhiles, all the best to everyone taking exams at the moment. We've gotten through so many things, we can get through this. Even with SARS. Even with the war brewing overseas. Why? 'Cause human beings are like cockroaches. You'll never be able to get rid of them.
:: nimezs @ 10:49 pm [+] ::
...
:: Saturday, April 12, 2003 ::
I'm sad. I lost my wallet. My wallet! I had it for... man. I can't even remember how long I had it. -sob- my walllllllleeeeeeeeeet! With my pictures! and my money!! And all those worthless discount cards people keep for no reason! And my debit master card.
Cancelled it, but I'm disappointed my wallet wasn't located because I'm pretty sure I left it in the cab. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I gotta buy a new wallet then... if it isn't found. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I need a hug. -sad face-
:: nimezs @ 1:14 am [+] ::
...
:: Wednesday, April 02, 2003 ::
I think I'm attracted to guys who I can never end up with. Very unconstructive. I don't know why either. I mean, I meet perfectly nice guys who are willing to sweep me off my feet, only I don't want them to. And then there's the guys who are so incompatible with me, so attached, so gay or so not-interested, but still I fall for them. It doesn't make sense to me. I'm seriously screwed up in the relationship department. I will never end up with anyone unless he lies to me about his disinterest until one day, BLAM!, he asks me and tells me the truth. Or something. Or maybe I'll just freak out and run in the other direction.
Have been very, very tempted in the past to just throw aside my priority about "connection" with the other party, and just enjoy the fawning and material gains bestowed. But that would be like... I dunno. I can't think of an analogy at the moment. Anyway, I never could. Throw away those reservations about people I can't connect with. Romantic interests. Sure, it's nice to be wined and dined, but it feels so weird if you don't feel anything for the winer and diner. Exploitational? And anyway, it wouldn't work out. Would it?
:: nimezs @ 10:36 pm [+] ::
