official opening is over, now its back to normal work and branch chalet. wind down, and then prepare for ndp and the setting up of the new hr centre.
insipid night, mentally tired after a week that really went by pretty fast and just catching my breath now. i think i need to sleep more or i'll turn into andy lau in infernal affairs 3.
and don't you dare disturb me i haven't had my ideals destroyed for quite a long time. i'm at the apogee of hope and at anytime now i'm due.
2/20/2004
2/18/2004
The Magic Show
"Ladies and gentlemen," the magician announced
"I'm going to cut this lady in two."
"Whatever shall I do, shall I do,"
choked the damsel in words she could hardly pronounce
He then proceeded to saw her in half
as the teeth of the blade were slicing her calf
she magically stood up from inside the box
without breaking a single one of the locks
The audience was stunned to a silent pause
followed by some rapturous applause
"Thank you my dear monsieurs and mesdames
next i'll be in a box over the River Thames."
"Ladies and gentlemen," the magician announced
"I'm going to cut this lady in two."
"Whatever shall I do, shall I do,"
choked the damsel in words she could hardly pronounce
He then proceeded to saw her in half
as the teeth of the blade were slicing her calf
she magically stood up from inside the box
without breaking a single one of the locks
The audience was stunned to a silent pause
followed by some rapturous applause
"Thank you my dear monsieurs and mesdames
next i'll be in a box over the River Thames."
2/16/2004
and this is a hymn from church
this is my blood
poured out for you
bringing forgiveness
making you free
take it and drink it
and when you do
do it in love for me
this is my body
broken out for you
bringing you wholeness
making you free
take it and drink it
and when you do
do it in love for me
back to my father soon i shall go
do not forget me, then you will see
o am still with you and you will know
you're very close to me
filled with my spirit,
how you will frow
you are my branches, i am the tree
if you are faithful, others will know
you are alive in me
love one another, i have loved you
and i have shown you how to be free
serve one another and when you do
do it in love for me.
this is my blood
poured out for you
bringing forgiveness
making you free
take it and drink it
and when you do
do it in love for me
this is my body
broken out for you
bringing you wholeness
making you free
take it and drink it
and when you do
do it in love for me
back to my father soon i shall go
do not forget me, then you will see
o am still with you and you will know
you're very close to me
filled with my spirit,
how you will frow
you are my branches, i am the tree
if you are faithful, others will know
you are alive in me
love one another, i have loved you
and i have shown you how to be free
serve one another and when you do
do it in love for me.
to jump through the sky and soar through the air
only to realise that you weren't there
burrowed a thousand feet underground
still your pretty face was nowhere to be found
sailed a million miles westward
yet your voice was still unheard
i've searched all the places you could've been
choosing still to keep yourself unseen
until i stopped and stayed to breathe a while
and i saw you standing there with a smile
only to realise that you weren't there
burrowed a thousand feet underground
still your pretty face was nowhere to be found
sailed a million miles westward
yet your voice was still unheard
i've searched all the places you could've been
choosing still to keep yourself unseen
until i stopped and stayed to breathe a while
and i saw you standing there with a smile
2/15/2004
2/14/2004
"I do not think that they will sing to me"
But we sang to them! It feels good to empty your lungs of air from time to time.
Anyhow, it is night now.
The luminous clock face of Nanyang Primary School reads 2 am. It is related to its cousin at NYGH.
The architecture tries to retain some of the flavour of the old school. Not enough though, considering the old one was decrepit, squalid, with mildew on the walls and ghosts of old girls comitting suicide because of lost loves.
It also had a green railing around and a multi-purpose basketball court thingie which was used mainly by the girls to play volleyball and basketball. And the area around my school was filled with hordes and hordes of girls such that in my search for quietness sometimes i would drop one stop early and walk in via king's road.
there used to be an a & w too, and a haagen dazs. it was a good slice of suburbia.
it still is. just that now its mostly cars dropping kids off in school. and maybe i just wake up too early and come home too late.
late late into the night.
st valentine's head was served on a plate to the roman emperor.
al capone's gang was also responsible for the st valentine's day massacre.
paper windmills spinning 3 by 3. menage a trois.
and the mermaids whistle through the night. they will not sing to you, but lest they do, do not turn your head.
or you will fall asleep, like you have wanted to.,
hush hush darling. the street lights will be on till next morning.
they effuse a warm glow 'etherizing' the streets, saying ' while i am turned on, nobody will be raped here, for i am the guardian of this street.'
but beware the subdued savagery of nocturnal nature. steer clear of reservoir parks and construction sites, the mothers say.
hmmm mm mmm, and we could be like this forever.
But we sang to them! It feels good to empty your lungs of air from time to time.
Anyhow, it is night now.
The luminous clock face of Nanyang Primary School reads 2 am. It is related to its cousin at NYGH.
The architecture tries to retain some of the flavour of the old school. Not enough though, considering the old one was decrepit, squalid, with mildew on the walls and ghosts of old girls comitting suicide because of lost loves.
It also had a green railing around and a multi-purpose basketball court thingie which was used mainly by the girls to play volleyball and basketball. And the area around my school was filled with hordes and hordes of girls such that in my search for quietness sometimes i would drop one stop early and walk in via king's road.
there used to be an a & w too, and a haagen dazs. it was a good slice of suburbia.
it still is. just that now its mostly cars dropping kids off in school. and maybe i just wake up too early and come home too late.
late late into the night.
st valentine's head was served on a plate to the roman emperor.
al capone's gang was also responsible for the st valentine's day massacre.
paper windmills spinning 3 by 3. menage a trois.
and the mermaids whistle through the night. they will not sing to you, but lest they do, do not turn your head.
or you will fall asleep, like you have wanted to.,
hush hush darling. the street lights will be on till next morning.
they effuse a warm glow 'etherizing' the streets, saying ' while i am turned on, nobody will be raped here, for i am the guardian of this street.'
but beware the subdued savagery of nocturnal nature. steer clear of reservoir parks and construction sites, the mothers say.
hmmm mm mmm, and we could be like this forever.
2/13/2004
I am sitting in a jazz bar opposite Rockefeller square, watching the snow fall down. It is Christmas, and the people are skating. I've never felt lonelier, but i've never felt so warm. Perhaps its the effusive glow of the christmas lighting, the lovers skating on ice, and the cacophony of street noises which adjourn to the background.
I've never been to Rockefeller square=p
Taking the MRT back from work, seeing people flash by, hurrying back from YJC, the elderly female warrant who probably has no one to eat with again. The busker at the station, guitar in hand, harmonica on mouth. The byzantine complex of Causeway Point, with its labyrinths of staircases and the queue behind the ATM machine.
Asleep on the bus.
Alight. Girl runs towards lover, shaping for a hug, guy stands there bewildered. He extends a hand, and what was supposed to be a hug transforms to a pair of hands clasped in the safe, warm glow of love. I need the toilet badly.
I could be lonely forever. And i say that in the same tone I would say 'I could have died in your arms'.
It's not the best possible world though, so ad majorem dei gloriam. for the greater glory of god. the jesuit motto.
to be erotic, not neurotic.
I've never been to Rockefeller square=p
Taking the MRT back from work, seeing people flash by, hurrying back from YJC, the elderly female warrant who probably has no one to eat with again. The busker at the station, guitar in hand, harmonica on mouth. The byzantine complex of Causeway Point, with its labyrinths of staircases and the queue behind the ATM machine.
Asleep on the bus.
Alight. Girl runs towards lover, shaping for a hug, guy stands there bewildered. He extends a hand, and what was supposed to be a hug transforms to a pair of hands clasped in the safe, warm glow of love. I need the toilet badly.
I could be lonely forever. And i say that in the same tone I would say 'I could have died in your arms'.
It's not the best possible world though, so ad majorem dei gloriam. for the greater glory of god. the jesuit motto.
to be erotic, not neurotic.
2/12/2004
I am reminded once more of your existence!
It is a joyous thing, remembering. That's why we're supposed to cry each time we break bread but there isn't much time to forget because we do it every week. I consecrate this day to your memory. 12th February. The Return to the Blog, inspired by its accidental discovery by Rumin.
As the disquieting muses sound, let us pause for a moment to reflect on discovery.
The authoritative poem to read is probably Nicolas Hasluk's 'Islands', because its from Calling of the Kindred Section D. But there's so much hype and stories. Newton discovered gravity because an apple fell on him. Some chinese concubine discovered silk like that 2000 years earlier, maybe because little miss muffet was eating her curds and whey when a silkworm appeared.
how did you discover masturbation? was it joyous?
discovery is a happy thing, until you disembark and kill all the Red Indians. then it just becomes messy.
'how was work today' its very amazing how often this phrase is used. my dad just used it today. i would use it if I was a parent. It is an innocuous way to start conversation without embarassing yourself. I'm actually quite embarassed though because I talk to myself on my blogs. You can then choose to reply and talk excitedly about it if it was a good day (good day), or say 'okay' if it's a bad day. occasionally you can grouch about your boss and stress but you're usually too tired on such occasions.
i'm not trashing such conversations. i think that it's important for people to communicate although it sounds forced at first. lets not deny there's a generation gap but usually lousy conversations give rise to decent ones if you keep at it. its better than not trying.
anyway. office life is pretty fun. especially when your branch is bored and jokes around. and i'm quite happy i won so much money today through astute bets and the fact that i can automatically translate stuff into chinese in a split second, and in some cases think in chinese first when a word is more appropriate. i think reading all the 'wen yan wen' is doing me good, and unlike chinese lessons, people actually speak chinese here. and they have thesauruses so they have pretty good english vocab.
how long will it be again? you can see why i'd make a bad boyfriend=p i'm having an affair with the office stationery and the memo pad. maybe i should start scribing it here.
It is a joyous thing, remembering. That's why we're supposed to cry each time we break bread but there isn't much time to forget because we do it every week. I consecrate this day to your memory. 12th February. The Return to the Blog, inspired by its accidental discovery by Rumin.
As the disquieting muses sound, let us pause for a moment to reflect on discovery.
The authoritative poem to read is probably Nicolas Hasluk's 'Islands', because its from Calling of the Kindred Section D. But there's so much hype and stories. Newton discovered gravity because an apple fell on him. Some chinese concubine discovered silk like that 2000 years earlier, maybe because little miss muffet was eating her curds and whey when a silkworm appeared.
how did you discover masturbation? was it joyous?
discovery is a happy thing, until you disembark and kill all the Red Indians. then it just becomes messy.
'how was work today' its very amazing how often this phrase is used. my dad just used it today. i would use it if I was a parent. It is an innocuous way to start conversation without embarassing yourself. I'm actually quite embarassed though because I talk to myself on my blogs. You can then choose to reply and talk excitedly about it if it was a good day (good day), or say 'okay' if it's a bad day. occasionally you can grouch about your boss and stress but you're usually too tired on such occasions.
i'm not trashing such conversations. i think that it's important for people to communicate although it sounds forced at first. lets not deny there's a generation gap but usually lousy conversations give rise to decent ones if you keep at it. its better than not trying.
anyway. office life is pretty fun. especially when your branch is bored and jokes around. and i'm quite happy i won so much money today through astute bets and the fact that i can automatically translate stuff into chinese in a split second, and in some cases think in chinese first when a word is more appropriate. i think reading all the 'wen yan wen' is doing me good, and unlike chinese lessons, people actually speak chinese here. and they have thesauruses so they have pretty good english vocab.
how long will it be again? you can see why i'd make a bad boyfriend=p i'm having an affair with the office stationery and the memo pad. maybe i should start scribing it here.
2/01/2004
the fact that teenage angst exists is probably symptomatic of the fact that something IS wrong with society. I personally think that Singapore is sort of shielded from the full extent of this malaise because it is rather a sort of a social democracy without welfare benefits. yet we may be moving inexorably into some morass. i don't know.
you're in europe so you probably have a first hand account of how life is like there. i love europe. i admire how they could have beat the guts out of each other and within a short span of 50 years put aside all animosity, have a common currency, allow free movement within the EU and simultaneously swing social democrat.
but my friend who study there are extremely disillusioned by it. porn and red light districts abound. that's not such a bad thing, but nobody over here watches european porn cause its full of bestiality and insane hardcore S&M a la de Sade. thank god for japan. those are the extremem manifestations for the sexual liberation that has swept western civilisation and is going to sweep us. i doubt singapore will ever swing to such an extreme( it's not in our blood).
sexual liberation was a good thing. it liberated the individual, who wis now free to choose whom they loved, threw off the last chains of serfdom, allowed family planning and gave a chance to 17 year old girls who could have had their life screwed over. with liberation came choice. choice bewildered people and therefore there had to exist a system of information which could help people out. this tied in with the nascent mass media, the worship of the Beatles, Brigitte Bardot and a new liberalism which allowed us to be a more tolerant humanity, especially towards homosexuals.
this glorification of the cult of the body also generates what i feel is the real angst among teenagers today. not existential angst but the angst of growing old. that they have to do something important, have some meaning in life when life isn't supposed to have some intrinsic meaning. at least not one subscribed to you. meaning isn't something a lot of people can readily find there when they look, unless you have strong faith, love or moral principles and when they look and when i find nothing there, i'm scared out of my wits. because "THERE'S NOTHING WORSE THAN LEADING AN ORDINARY LIFE." - American Beauty. You'd better fuck before 35 or you have to use Viagra. and the only life worth living is a young one. nowadays we have movies of ugly ducklings turning into swans e.g. never been kissed. but a lot of people who think they're fat or ugly are so scared of being condemned to a life of solitary masturbation, that having experienced the pleasure emanating from their Krause's corpuscles, they would need that next level of physical intimacy, the warm glow of love. that's why clarence wants to be a plastic surgeon, because he wants to make people happy.
and when they do fall in love, it sometimes falls short and they refuse to call it love.
this isn't meant to be an optimistic opinion of the world today. fear has replaced hope and not even Islam will triumph against the combined might of Chinese and Western secularism. and because we'll never rid ourself of our fear of dying or even aging the need to gratify ourselves as quickly as possible will remain.
but at least we're tortured animals. we have the ability to say hmm this is not right and change it. but inevitably with this tension, knowing that things are not right, leads to depression but as long as its not despair. it's fine.
you're in europe so you probably have a first hand account of how life is like there. i love europe. i admire how they could have beat the guts out of each other and within a short span of 50 years put aside all animosity, have a common currency, allow free movement within the EU and simultaneously swing social democrat.
but my friend who study there are extremely disillusioned by it. porn and red light districts abound. that's not such a bad thing, but nobody over here watches european porn cause its full of bestiality and insane hardcore S&M a la de Sade. thank god for japan. those are the extremem manifestations for the sexual liberation that has swept western civilisation and is going to sweep us. i doubt singapore will ever swing to such an extreme( it's not in our blood).
sexual liberation was a good thing. it liberated the individual, who wis now free to choose whom they loved, threw off the last chains of serfdom, allowed family planning and gave a chance to 17 year old girls who could have had their life screwed over. with liberation came choice. choice bewildered people and therefore there had to exist a system of information which could help people out. this tied in with the nascent mass media, the worship of the Beatles, Brigitte Bardot and a new liberalism which allowed us to be a more tolerant humanity, especially towards homosexuals.
this glorification of the cult of the body also generates what i feel is the real angst among teenagers today. not existential angst but the angst of growing old. that they have to do something important, have some meaning in life when life isn't supposed to have some intrinsic meaning. at least not one subscribed to you. meaning isn't something a lot of people can readily find there when they look, unless you have strong faith, love or moral principles and when they look and when i find nothing there, i'm scared out of my wits. because "THERE'S NOTHING WORSE THAN LEADING AN ORDINARY LIFE." - American Beauty. You'd better fuck before 35 or you have to use Viagra. and the only life worth living is a young one. nowadays we have movies of ugly ducklings turning into swans e.g. never been kissed. but a lot of people who think they're fat or ugly are so scared of being condemned to a life of solitary masturbation, that having experienced the pleasure emanating from their Krause's corpuscles, they would need that next level of physical intimacy, the warm glow of love. that's why clarence wants to be a plastic surgeon, because he wants to make people happy.
and when they do fall in love, it sometimes falls short and they refuse to call it love.
this isn't meant to be an optimistic opinion of the world today. fear has replaced hope and not even Islam will triumph against the combined might of Chinese and Western secularism. and because we'll never rid ourself of our fear of dying or even aging the need to gratify ourselves as quickly as possible will remain.
but at least we're tortured animals. we have the ability to say hmm this is not right and change it. but inevitably with this tension, knowing that things are not right, leads to depression but as long as its not despair. it's fine.
1/31/2004
I've commissioned now, and yes it does feel a little weird with two little pips of a bar on my shoulder. More responsibility I guess. Everyone tells me I ought to be happy with my posting, HQ 6 Div AMPO. Sounds good, and I'm happy rightly so. Should have time to drive, study French, play nice fun childhood- games. tres bien. just to get this niggly magazine thing over with. if i were on a low self-esteem day i guess i would be reproaching myself on my tremendous irresponsibility but i think that its merely a function of my inability to instill fear in people. because generally i do work. well okay. i don't overly stress myself.
coldplay. that's it.
coldplay. that's it.
1/24/2004
Its beautiful. It's been raining here for one and a half days. From the rambunctious thunderstorm to the dull irised drizzle, its just been raining. Think of all the places that are flooded. And its making the temperature lower here in camp. Its one of those things I'll miss, the weather here. It's about how we get our dosage of cold. And sooner or later the sun will be up so it's not some perpetual drizzle like London. Good.
Talking about the weather. poof.
Talking about the weather. poof.
12/19/2003
I'm finally back. Back from supposedly a gruelling experience in the jungles of Brunei. It was difficult in its own way, yet not in a way I expected. Now I am back and I am asked? Why does my life have no meaning? It's really simple actually. Because faced with survival, i know i could just survive, day to day, just like that. Alone. I don't really want to sound like Holden caulfield and all. Yet I can't help it. It is at night when i am the eternal pessimist. I pay attention to detail but I just cannot help talking about grand feelings and stuff. I am now listening to piano pieces from Amelie. Soothing, and maybe it helps me to sleep.
Well. Let's look forward to some things. if all goes well, tomorrow I shall be baking cookies with clarence and rumin. friends. friends are lovely. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.
Well. Let's look forward to some things. if all goes well, tomorrow I shall be baking cookies with clarence and rumin. friends. friends are lovely. I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.
11/15/2003
I am a very well balanced individual.
I rarely do anything stupid.
I'm sensibly sensible.
I'll be brought to see your mom.
I am typically curt to myself.
I have forgone all artistic integrity.
I think I have found the truth.
I am guilty for not telling it.
I have started all sentences with I.
I am self-absorbed.
I worry about other people's lives.
Only because they're too much like mine.
Balanced all, brought to mind.
Son of Cain, hermit kind.
I occupy myself with less important things.
That are horribly urgent.
I rarely do anything stupid.
I'm sensibly sensible.
I'll be brought to see your mom.
I am typically curt to myself.
I have forgone all artistic integrity.
I think I have found the truth.
I am guilty for not telling it.
I have started all sentences with I.
I am self-absorbed.
I worry about other people's lives.
Only because they're too much like mine.
Balanced all, brought to mind.
Son of Cain, hermit kind.
I occupy myself with less important things.
That are horribly urgent.
11/12/2003
I'm currently in the project room of my OCS Wing. We're having this interesting discussion, sure, we're not too eloquent and verbose, but sort of having a good time gossiping. good for my ennui. which is better for me. it isn't dull. i just have an inverterate, naive, interest in others people's lives which doesn't satisfy me.
wish i had something important for you to hear.
it's ok. maybe it was meant for us to laugh this day off. consign it to the rubbish bin of all other days.
i've no one to address. no pa system. still. as now we are psychoanalysing other's personal problems, i feel strangely worriless and blameless. and other's fates.
i am the walrus.
where are the people we admire. lennon and harrison are in the sky.
inspiration, motivation for the course, quite close we are to reaching the end, and we are ruminizing, a combination of things and words. fodder for forceps. fight for frenchmen. seoc.
OOP. sign off now.
wish i had something important for you to hear.
it's ok. maybe it was meant for us to laugh this day off. consign it to the rubbish bin of all other days.
i've no one to address. no pa system. still. as now we are psychoanalysing other's personal problems, i feel strangely worriless and blameless. and other's fates.
i am the walrus.
where are the people we admire. lennon and harrison are in the sky.
inspiration, motivation for the course, quite close we are to reaching the end, and we are ruminizing, a combination of things and words. fodder for forceps. fight for frenchmen. seoc.
OOP. sign off now.
10/25/2003
Waltzess poem.
Waltzess of Duchess Hill
The first wasn't much of a dancer
The murmurs hushed down through the hall
young, naive, fun-loving, equipped, with
the freedom to thrill or enthrall.
no frills, no messy after-talk
she'd ask the men for their hand
and turn the timid ones gay
as the music was struck by the band
the second somewhat more subtle
although you couldn't tell from her glance
she'd stand in the corner behind the crowds
simply too terrified to dance.
to the other me of the crowd
she charmed me more than the first
perhaps the looks, and the quiet
deep down my throat, this thirst
for someone i truly loved
yet i never knew what it could be
the first changed me, yet she was nice
but i didn't lose myself completely
what now, some asinine comment?
in a bid to grab her attention
with each piercing look
she loves me, she loves me not, ooh the tension
but i'll leave it all till tomorrow
if only it were just a dance
i attach too much worry too much pain
but darling we're not in france.
the last a one as yet to come
not just fun, nor crazy, nor obligatory
you just have to get off your bum
and dance damnit, dance and make merry.
Waltzess of Duchess Hill
The first wasn't much of a dancer
The murmurs hushed down through the hall
young, naive, fun-loving, equipped, with
the freedom to thrill or enthrall.
no frills, no messy after-talk
she'd ask the men for their hand
and turn the timid ones gay
as the music was struck by the band
the second somewhat more subtle
although you couldn't tell from her glance
she'd stand in the corner behind the crowds
simply too terrified to dance.
to the other me of the crowd
she charmed me more than the first
perhaps the looks, and the quiet
deep down my throat, this thirst
for someone i truly loved
yet i never knew what it could be
the first changed me, yet she was nice
but i didn't lose myself completely
what now, some asinine comment?
in a bid to grab her attention
with each piercing look
she loves me, she loves me not, ooh the tension
but i'll leave it all till tomorrow
if only it were just a dance
i attach too much worry too much pain
but darling we're not in france.
the last a one as yet to come
not just fun, nor crazy, nor obligatory
you just have to get off your bum
and dance damnit, dance and make merry.
10/14/2003
Evidently, something is wrong. After 3 days of off-in lieu. You need time, and here comes creativity. No one likes you they browse
Waltzess.
This is not exactly a waltzess story. Just could be the prelude. Let's call it cool chick.
There was a dancer I loved, who lived on Duchess lane, where I'm sure there were trees and a lovely apartment, and where I ran past from time to time.
Ever wonder where we came from? It's hard to know where we came from, but it's certainly easier to know where they came from! No I'm not mad, if you'd only listen to me this bit. Give an older man his due.
Boom - pa - pa. Boom - pa - pa. Boom - pa - pa.
1 and 1 and 1 is 3. 3's the magic number, for the past, present, future and waltz. the 3rd relationship. and the 3 men I admire the most.
It snowed torrentially, and the sign of a true madman is whether or not he'd go in this or t
Waltzess.
This is not exactly a waltzess story. Just could be the prelude. Let's call it cool chick.
There was a dancer I loved, who lived on Duchess lane, where I'm sure there were trees and a lovely apartment, and where I ran past from time to time.
Ever wonder where we came from? It's hard to know where we came from, but it's certainly easier to know where they came from! No I'm not mad, if you'd only listen to me this bit. Give an older man his due.
Boom - pa - pa. Boom - pa - pa. Boom - pa - pa.
1 and 1 and 1 is 3. 3's the magic number, for the past, present, future and waltz. the 3rd relationship. and the 3 men I admire the most.
It snowed torrentially, and the sign of a true madman is whether or not he'd go in this or t
having typed so much it all disappeared. Oh well it was just a draft. Again.
Fury. 1. and 1 and 1 is 3.
"A glass of wine, a loaf of bread and Thou"
But thou art gone now, and I have my wine and bread.
I do not know you
I do not know you
I do not know you.
And the cock crew, wondering why you call me only by a sobriquet you invent or not at all.
Yet He did not wonder. He knew, people are themselves, they have them and their loves to protect.
Remind me again, why I torture myself so.
Do you? You have a laptop at least, and some air conditioning.
Back again at this time of asking, how prodigal.
Can't you be more normal! And not be the guy giving away Pulitzers to yourself in your brain. This blog is yearning for it.
Some semblance of normalcy. The everyday description of the weather, your loves, your anxieties. Not for you to return, to demonstrate your power, to say, I renounce you words, I consign you to the flames in an overreaction to these same words which are your friends, but used by your enemies.
Enemies. I have none.
You claim not to. A spade is a spade. You have the power to kill. And hate. Even for just 5 minutes.
My life cannot be defined in 5 minutes.
Stupid philosophical dialogues attract little interest, romantic ones do. I know, you've been talking to your waltzess. it has kept you sane, away from me.
I'm not romantic.
The problem is you have the wrong heroes. Or you have too many. You to yourself, say oh 'What strength, what beauty', his ability to sacrifice, to live without love and you think you can do it too, when every ounce, every ounce of you demands that you suck dry every bit of love you need, to nourish your self, to placate your choler.
Tant pis.
You like French, the way it looks on the page. Tastes better then the umlauts. You, even words on a page, not spoken, can seduce you. You're too soft.
But I like the strong and the sentimental.
The strong are always sentimental. That's what gives them their strength.
I am beating around the bush. I need to interlocute my hate and frustration.
You can't, you're too soft.
I can't.
No you can't. You love drama. Now. Just count silently. Write me a waltzess chapter. Cover it up. Tolstoy thought he solved it all, and writing the biggest fattest book in European literature didn't make him happy. He had to turn to THE Big Fat Book. And it was right.
Why have you forsaken me?
To love, twenty cents and love. Not with love, but yours sincerely.
Fury. 1. and 1 and 1 is 3.
"A glass of wine, a loaf of bread and Thou"
But thou art gone now, and I have my wine and bread.
I do not know you
I do not know you
I do not know you.
And the cock crew, wondering why you call me only by a sobriquet you invent or not at all.
Yet He did not wonder. He knew, people are themselves, they have them and their loves to protect.
Remind me again, why I torture myself so.
Do you? You have a laptop at least, and some air conditioning.
Back again at this time of asking, how prodigal.
Can't you be more normal! And not be the guy giving away Pulitzers to yourself in your brain. This blog is yearning for it.
Some semblance of normalcy. The everyday description of the weather, your loves, your anxieties. Not for you to return, to demonstrate your power, to say, I renounce you words, I consign you to the flames in an overreaction to these same words which are your friends, but used by your enemies.
Enemies. I have none.
You claim not to. A spade is a spade. You have the power to kill. And hate. Even for just 5 minutes.
My life cannot be defined in 5 minutes.
Stupid philosophical dialogues attract little interest, romantic ones do. I know, you've been talking to your waltzess. it has kept you sane, away from me.
I'm not romantic.
The problem is you have the wrong heroes. Or you have too many. You to yourself, say oh 'What strength, what beauty', his ability to sacrifice, to live without love and you think you can do it too, when every ounce, every ounce of you demands that you suck dry every bit of love you need, to nourish your self, to placate your choler.
Tant pis.
You like French, the way it looks on the page. Tastes better then the umlauts. You, even words on a page, not spoken, can seduce you. You're too soft.
But I like the strong and the sentimental.
The strong are always sentimental. That's what gives them their strength.
I am beating around the bush. I need to interlocute my hate and frustration.
You can't, you're too soft.
I can't.
No you can't. You love drama. Now. Just count silently. Write me a waltzess chapter. Cover it up. Tolstoy thought he solved it all, and writing the biggest fattest book in European literature didn't make him happy. He had to turn to THE Big Fat Book. And it was right.
Why have you forsaken me?
To love, twenty cents and love. Not with love, but yours sincerely.
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