| digging for that Treasure | ||||
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welcome No one ever followed his genius til it misled him. Though the result were bodily weakness, yet perhaps no one can say that the consequences were to be regretted, for these were a life in conformity to higher principles. If the day and night are such that you greet them with joy, and life emits a fragrance like flowers and sweet-scented herbs, is more elastic, more starry, more immortal,--that is your success. All nature is your congratulation, and you have cause momentarily to bless yourself. The greatest gains and values are farthest from being appreciated. We easily come to doubt if they exist. We soon forget them. They are the highest reality....the true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched. --Henry David Thoreau |
profile There are two words to describe me: 'atheistic' and 'cynical'. Anything else, you'll have to find out by yourself. Don't like it, sue me. And that's the awful truth. |
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I WANT THE FIRST EDITION AUTOGRAPHED COPY OF WALLY LAMB'S "SHE'S COME UNDONE"! IT COSTS $70, INCLUSIVE OF SHIPPING CHARGE. CHRISTMAS PREZ ANYONE? PRETTY PLEASE WITH SWEET PROCESSED CHERRIES ON TOP? COME ON DUDES. WHERE'S THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT? GIVE A LITTLE BIT? HUMMM.....? *PREEN* // Sunday, November 30, 2008, 1:00 AM The Popular Bookfest was a godsend, I must say. The place was huge, and I wish I could have gone there again, but its last day was yesterday, so it's over now. Kudos to Jin Wei, who got me thinking about it in the first place. Too bad I lost my watch there. But it was sorta worth it anyway. I spent over $50 there, and bought myself 5 books. Man, they were cheap. I bought a hardcover 'Lisey's Story' for like $7. There weren't many Stephen King books though, only about three, and one of them had a hideously pink cover that I didn't even want to touch. So I bought myself a couple of comedies, but only the ones from acclaimed authors. I can never buy a book from someone I have never read unless the person has really good reviews and/or won some awards. That's how I found Joshua Ferris, which was a mighty good find. Can't wait for his next novel. Also, I couldn't find any books from Oprah's Book Club, and that's such a waste. I spent like 4 hours there. You can't imagine how time flies for me when I'm choosing a book. It's not something to be taken lightly. Also, I wanted to find some collected poetry from W. H. Auden, and wandered around everywhere to find it, but it was all in vain. I found a huge book full of E. A. Poe's work, but it wasn't in very good shape. And you know how I am about my books: no creases, marks, tatters or folds. I'm a perfectionist like that. I like my books to be clean and new. All in all, it was a Good Day. Ah... Musical Evening. It killed my feet, by the way, and I hate make-up. It was really exhausting, and the lights were so bright, but its cool to be under a spotlight, do not you think? Jolene says I looked pretty, but well, who knows. Can you imagine me 'pretty'? I think not. The performances were great, especially the Dance. They had really extravagant costumes, that went quite well with the movements and such. After the long ride home, I flopped onto my couch and turned on the TV to watch Hitchhikers Guide, since my CD was screwed up and such. I reveled in British humor, reminding me of Nick Hornby and 'About a Boy'. Also, Zooey Deschannel is a great actress, one I affectionately refer to as Devil Bird Girl. Heh, I love that line from 'Failure to Launch'. Well, that's all folks! // Monday, November 24, 2008, 2:29 PM Musical Evening this Saturday... And the script's not done yet. There's so much work to be done, since we've only completed the structure of the script, but all the words are pretty much repeated over and over again. I mean, how many ways can you say 'wonderful'? Well, I'm sure we'll get it done in time, there really isn't that much to say. There's rehearsal tomorrow at 7.30 am, so hopefully after seeing all the performances I can get a better idea of how the script should go. This is going to be a long week for me, what with SMP and it's "Why are you interested with this project?", plus the fact that I scored the best in English exam so I have the responsibility of rephrasing, summarizing, and compiling every single idea Cleo and Rosemund come up with. Then there's the business of the damn script, and seeing as it took us around 2 hours just to get the structure done, I'm so terrified of the prospect of the amount of time it will take. At least Jolene will be at the rehearsal, so there will be a friendly face in the crowd. Footnote: I will be wearing a dress. // Monday, November 17, 2008, 2:29 PM Imagine an ancient forest, filled with towering redwoods stretching up towards the sky. A lusciously green canopy filtering pale green light onto the undergrowth below. A quiet melody of birds serenading to the beautiful morning light, just beginning to emerge from between the gloriously flowering hills in the distance. Its light glances off the dewy petals of the field of sunflowers, and sparkles in your eye as it catches the surface of the tiny drops of sweet morning nectar. A narrow road winds through the forest, with trees so closely lining it that your can feel your way down the road simply by letting your fingers gently graze the rough bark as they guide you deeper and deeper into the virgin forest... This is my happy place. It is were I go to when I want to be alone. I never get lonely there. It is my favourite place in the entire world. And I can go to it anytime I want. Perhaps you should find yours... It'll be fun. Trust me. Everyone needs a happy place. // Saturday, November 15, 2008, 4:38 PM I just realised that no one gets it. No one understands. Urgh, I'm so disappointed. I had such a high opinion of them, but I guess it was just too much too soon. Well, next year, I can have another go at it, and try to find someone that knows. I doubt I will succeed, though, because people are just different, you know? I can always try to make someone understand, but that will totally ruin the whole idea of it. Plus it won't be much fun, nor will it be natural. I'll just leave that as a last resort. I'm so tired of it all; the constant depression, the angst, the complaining. They're really getting on my nerves. You'd think that the countless years of education would actually teach them something. I can't believe they still haven't figured it out yet. How many more arguments and fights will be enough to give them that precious epiphany? I'm just happy that my progress was faster than theirs, probably because of all my yelling and screaming and hair-pulling. I guess it was the hardships of my life that taught me the real important things. Happiness didn't really teach me anything, only that you have to treasure it, which is kinda already given. Only time will tell. Oh, I do hope they realize it too. It'll be so good for them. Although I must say, the logic of it is really hippie-ish. But well, they are the only people that are always smiling and loving life, right? We should all take a leaf out of their book. Heh, this blog entry is really cryptic, but just to clarify, this entry is not about me or my life. It is dedicated to the people who are near me, but not close, nor related. See if you can figure out who these people are. It'll be fun! Too bad I can't be anymore straightforward. That's not the point of this entry. Its metaphorical. Knock yourselves out. // Sunday, November 9, 2008, 4:24 PM The Merits of a Life of Solitude by Elaine Gao There is a quiet happiness in solitude: it is humble, and knows not of the extravagant glamors obtained only through wild, vivacious gatherings of a multitude of people. It is gentle, only daring to give the slightest of curls to the edges of your lips. It is soft, conservative, serene, and thus only a handfew of people know how to properly appreciate it. A patron of such an emotion is reserved, choosing to create his or her own world instead of joining the present society. Thus they are usually ostricised by the majority. I think the reason for this is becaus everyone has to work their asses off to be accepted, but these few special people are the masters of their own universe. I loved the solitary life--it was everything I could ever wish for: vast expanses of deserted land which sole purpose was to await me, their great conqueror. This time I was in Tokyo, and not a soul was in sight. The bright signboards dazzled in the stillness of the night, changing colors every few seconds or so, trying to entice the passer-bys that didn't exist. It seemed like a strange act of desperation, that when even though no one was in sight, those expensive advertisements still lit up the streets with desire, as if enticing the streetlights in absence of people. With bounding leaps, I skipped across the street, then grabbing a streetlight with my right hand, I danced to an imaginary tune of legendary music. Everything was quiet, and the only thing I could hear was the rushed rhythmic beating of my own heart. I smiled a modest smile (this was only supposed to be the beginning after all), and began to hum a tune that had only just came into my mind. Hah! Could life be anymore wonderful? Releasing my grip on the lamppost, I stretched out my arms and spun around as fast as I could. I marveled at how the cool night felt on my cheeks, refreshingly comfortable. I lifted my head and gazed upwards at the stars as they ran round and round, bejeweling the black sky. The towering skyscrapers seemed to reach out forever, endlessly stretching towards the heavens. But the thought of all those empty floors and uninhabited offices seemed to bring a sense of loneliness to me, which was very unusual. However, I quickly pushed that out of my mind, choosing not to burden myself with such heavy thoughts. With my eyes still plastered to the stars, I begun to let myself loose with a mad twirling across the streets, so fast that I could feel tugging at the tips of my fingers. ----- Little did Harold know, the streets of Tokyo were in fact bustling with people. It was, after all, a hell of a busy city. However, the thing with Harold was that after living so long in total and complete solitude, he began to lose his ability to see people. To him, the entire world was uninhabited--free from the constraining grips of humanity, of civilization. The whole world was his playground, and no one was there to stop him from, say, frolicking in a field of flowers. At least, no one he could see. ----- I spun round as fast as I could, feeling the nauseating tingles of dizziness at the tip of my head. Oh, but it was so fun! I could do this forever--watching the world go round and round and round and round-- I gulped in my last breath, closed my eyes, and finally let myself go.A ferocious force slammed into the side of my hips, shattering them at impact, the velocity of which sent my head flying sideways to crash into a brittle but sharp object, which was completely invisible to my eyes. I felt my head split in half, and heard a crackle of bones that was no doubt from my spine. A deafening crack was heard as my neck broke, and a broken rib was piercing into my lungs. The velocity of the impact sent me flying in the air, and for those few seconds, I felt absolutely free, like I was flying with invisible wings, completely liberated from the constrictions of my body. But then I realized I wasn't flying--I was falling, falling onto the cold, dark tarmac road that was still shimmery wet from a rainfall long ago. As I came into contact with the ground, my face convulsed in a futile attempt to block the pain, but it was inevitable. A pang of excruciating pain rippled through my body, making it seem like my flesh was on fire. I landed on my side and dislocated my shoulder. With tremendous effort, I pushed on the ground and landed on my back. I could feel blood from my head wound trickle downwards to the black tarmac, giving it a shade of color that would have otherwise made it look more lively. Starring upwards, I implored for a human face to appear ahead of me, with hair hanging downwards, and eyebrows tweezed, eyes watering, and a pair of lips that mouthed the words "It's okay, I'm here to save you." But only the stars answered back, cold and heartless, too old and ancient to even care. The sudden unfamiliarity of something I once adored hit me hard, the last eppiphany I will ever have. Tears collected at the edges of my eyes, blurring my vision. Not that I cared, however, Because I could no longer see the stars, which came as a huge relief. If only someone was here. Anyone. Someone I could fight on for, someone who could hold my hand. But no one appeared. I could wait no longer. If someone had appeared, at least I would try to survive, and hold on to that last glimmer of life that was quickly pulling away. ----- A group of concerned people had gathered around Harold. All the ladies had their hands covering their enormous gaping mouth, but the men just stood there transfixed with horror. One man took the initiative to call for an ambulance, but it had not yet arrived. A woman had emerged from the crowd and introduced herself as a doctor. She bent down over his head, speaking fervently in Japanese, but Harold did not answer. She quickly requested some space, stretching her arms out and swinging them side to side. Immediately, a small circle was formed between Harold and the throngs of frightened people. Finally, sirens could be heard in the distance and the group of people parted to give way to the ambulance. The people who were still in their cars some distance away were immediately lured by the sirens and emerged from their vehicles, curious but fearful. The driver of the car that had hit Harold pushed his way through the crowd and emerged looking ghastly pale and sweating through his shirt. His hands were shaking and he stuttered as he spoke. He asked if the man was okay, but the doctor shook her head, replying that she did not think he would survive. At that moment, he looked so utterly petrified that he was sure he was going to have some unexpected and uncontrollabe bowel movements on the street. Thankfully, the paramedics arrived before he had a chance to do so. They loaded him up onto a gurney, and after the doctor climbed into the ambulance, they sped away. The driver just stood there, eyes glued onto the the flashing red and white truck as it disappeared around the corner. The doctor stood over Harold and tried all that she could to resuscitate him, but he had suffered such severe trauma that really nothing could be done. A high-pitched beep resonated through the ambulance as Harold flatlined. The doctor looked up in horror and doubled her efforts, beads of sweat were already trickling down her forehead. She tried and tried to save him. Harold died on the way to the hospital. ----- There is a dull sadness in solitude: it is a slow but aching pain to your heart and mind. It is terribly depressing and disgustingly powerful. It can bring down even the strongest of people, leaving them grovelling for even a touch of human comfort. It is a descending spiral of destruction, sucking away your soul bit by bit, memory by memory. It is an isolation from everything good in the world: love, care, kindness, friendship, happiness, etc. It is a feeling of complete imcompetency, of misery, of grief, of heartahce. It is a Pandora's box of sorrow, and it never ever goes away. -The End- // Saturday, November 8, 2008, 12:25 AM The Bintan trip is coming soon, though I haven't even started packing yet. Really not many things to bring seeing as its only 2 days. Jia Ying has pestered me to start on my packing, so I guess I should start soon. Must not forget my mosquito repellant. Also, my homework pile has now almost vanished. All I have left to do are 2 sets of my Math homework and the English comprehension. I'll probably finish them up in about three days. No biggie. I've been so caught up in watching television these past few days that I haven't really done anything else. I bought three new books but I still haven't read finish the Stephen King book I bought before school ended. This is probably because I can't read his books at night after my horrifying experience with 'The Shining', but I only feel like reading at night after exhausting my eyes with TV the entire day. Urgh. Well, I promised myself I have to read more books, so I have to make 'The Tommyknockers' a priority. It's starting to get kinda creepy, what with all the townspeople losing their teeth and such. I'm halfway through and still no hero is emerging to save the conclusion of the book. Now I'm wondering if its a happy ending after all... Still, it's not as horrifying as 'The Shining' or even 'Pet Sematary'. I guess ghosts beat aliens after all. Heh. Well, time to go. Have to wake up early for the stupid meeting tomorrow. Gonna stop by Borders on my way back, perhaps buy 'Cold Mountain' or something. I really want a hardcover book--I'm getting sick of paperback books and how easy they crease. // Wednesday, November 5, 2008, 9:49 PM Well, I finally changed my blogskin. Hope you guys are happy. //, 9:47 PM |
