*Blink*
You stand in a field of yellow flowers, all minor suns. In their center, a small ring of blue, like a child's tear, lies nestled. A small wind ruffles their perfect symmetry, a momentary bending of their heads to a higher power, then all isagain still. You look around. All is still, all is silent. All is perfect.
You shade your eyes against the sun and the blue, the yellow below and the impossibility of the situation. A single step would crush dozens of these minor suns, all packed in and around each other. You take that step, and an aroma like sunday mornings in the park, a perfect blue sky and your first kiss fills your nostrils, and you are momentarily lifted. Walking, the aroma is now a constant companion, so much so that have to blink to keep this field of yellow/blue in sight. The sky is a blue wall below which is spread this infinite yellow tablecloth, pure and unblemished. So blue it hurts.You squint.
(How did you get here...how...)
You blink. You are standing in a desert, with sand blowing in your eyes. Your mouth. Your teeth. Your nostrils. You cough and cover your face and ears. Its in your hair. Under your nails. You stumble forward, hacking against the storm. Fall to your knees and try to breathe through the onslaught.
It takes a few seconds before you realise that you're not feeling anything but the wind. The sand passes through you, around you, untouching. You kneel there, not understanding. The wind howls, and you feel its loneliness and despair in your bones. It echoes in the back of your mind, reminding you of disappointments past, and the many more to come. Despair. A constant companion.
(What, where...the hell is going on...?)
You stand, and walk. You discern movement, images, figures in the haze. Frozen. No. They move, but only when you look away, and only in a speed discernable by one familiar.
(Familiar...with what...hold on, what...?)
They're dozens of them around you, and you then realize that its not a storm, but thousands, no, millions of overlapped images of figures, horses, soldiers, people, cars falling off of bridges, people dying, running, crying, falling, standing in shock, fear, curling up in pain, shaking...just the pure horror of human suffering poured out in visual form onto your eyeballs. You stand there in shock yourself...and just watch. It washes over you. Your very heart turns black within your chest, and you shudder with the realisation that this is you, this is what it means to be human. To suffer, live in pain, and then die.
(No....it can't...what...)
Blink.
You're back in the field of blue and yellow, and you fall forward to your knees, choking on the tears you did not know were coming. Your vision blurs, and you cry your heart out there in that beautiful, lonely oasis. You fumble forward, and that scent of cotton candy and soft touches in the hall, holding hands as you walk and dancing under hot lights with the one you desire/love/lust after fills you again, and you begin to laugh through your tears. You feel as if you are going insane. Unable to process emotions of such diametric difference all at once, your body executes the most useful feature it possesses. In the face of an overwhelming situation that it cannot immediately comprehend or process, the human body possesses the ability to turn itself off.
You faint.
When you wake up, you're standing on a beach. The water makes a quiet shh-shhhh as it peaks beneath your feet, then recedes back to the arms of its mother, the ocean. You are barefooted, and the water is warm on your toes. A gentle wind, smelling of salt and sugar cane tickles your nose, and somewhere in the distance you hear the gentle strains of relaxed revelry. You lift your head, and allow the calm and peace of the moment to suffuse your being. You breathe, happy to have woken from that...nightmare. In, out, in, out, the breaths come. Your heart slows (hm, what, no...there was something...no..forget it) as you return to your normal state of calm. You turn to walk back towards (where...wait, where was I going before...wait wait wait) when a voice says;
"But its never that easy, is it? Being human, I mean."
You whirl, disturbing the sand and the scene. Everything shimmers for a second, white white, then settles back to normal colour. Standing a few feet down the beach is a man, nondescript, small, inconsequential. White shirt, white pants, straw hat. Beach bum. Beer in hand, his back to you.
"Its never that easy, being anything in this world."
He looks out from under his hat at you, and you realise...no, it can't be....
Blink.
You wake up in bed, and there is no more sleep for you that night. In the back of your head, you can hear the soft whisper of the waves on the beach, and beneath them...the silent cries of all those trapped in the haze. The sunflowers evade your mind, even as you reach for them in a desperate attempt as SOME kind of solace from this crazy dream. There will be no more sleep for you this night. None at all. You have much to think about, and morning....? It is still far, far away.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Tuxedo Mask
*looks up from sweeping*
So today I decide to go online and finally, finally, FINALLY decide on a tuxedo for myself and my groomsmen. Having not chosen one the last time (contrary to what my fiance believes, hm) I decide that enough is enough, I need to go on and just get this done.
Right.
So, I'm on this site, looking around at the various styles, comparing one to another, and looking at the different cuts and whatnot, and it comes to my attention that most of these look awfully similar. I flip back and forth, not daring to blink lest I miss a difference in the cut of the lapel or the length of the jacket or whatnot. If the difference isn't made obvious by the name (a 'shawl lapel' versus a 'notch lapel', and the promisingly titled but oh so disappointing double breasted suit) or a glaring difference, well then, I have to focus my eyes on a point on the tux and flip back and forth to spot a difference. Yet another case of complexity outgrowing necessity, but that's the way it is and has been.
I've discovered that I go for the more traditional cuts and styles (up to a point). Like, I would never, ever see myself in a tux that's not a dark colour, maybe grey being the highest shade I would go. A white tux appalls me to no end, and don't get me started on the other colours (pimpwear, as I call them). Knowing absolutely nothing about the history of the tux, and maybe having worn one maybe once before (my second sister's wedding, go figure) I've come to the conclusion (no doubt based on years of James Bond, fashion magazines and other such trustworthy and upstanding sources) that a tux should be of dark colour, the darker the better.
I've also realized that I dislike cummerbunds to no end.
UGH. Why do you need that band of colour, in what is an awkward place to draw attention to for most men?
*clears throat*
*lays aside broom and walks over to window*
I went to wikipedia just now to look up the history of the tux. Makes sense that something that's giving me this much trouble would be british in origin (and funnily enough, was popularised by an act intended to enable a lord to get it on with another mans wife. So much for its being the symbol of the wedding, and all that crap). Damn brits, first they colonize my country (well, one of the many, but more on that later) and then they give me this headache. Curse you britannia!!!
*breathes*
Right. So. I've settled on a three button something or other, and this other one that looks really cool (can't remember the names right now, I mean come on, have you seen the names of these things???) and might fit me well, if I can just start exercising again, and stay away from the cigs (24 hours and counting, how many more times will I quit?...anyway). I'm really excited, like, I never thought these things would ever look good on me, much less get married, and here I am, picking out my tux for my wedding.
So excited. Can you tell?
Sure you can.
Peace out, I'm done for the day. Bathe, and then to bed. Tomorrow I've got things to do, and then I gotta go to town to see the pastor. More on that later as well.
So today I decide to go online and finally, finally, FINALLY decide on a tuxedo for myself and my groomsmen. Having not chosen one the last time (contrary to what my fiance believes, hm) I decide that enough is enough, I need to go on and just get this done.
Right.
So, I'm on this site, looking around at the various styles, comparing one to another, and looking at the different cuts and whatnot, and it comes to my attention that most of these look awfully similar. I flip back and forth, not daring to blink lest I miss a difference in the cut of the lapel or the length of the jacket or whatnot. If the difference isn't made obvious by the name (a 'shawl lapel' versus a 'notch lapel', and the promisingly titled but oh so disappointing double breasted suit) or a glaring difference, well then, I have to focus my eyes on a point on the tux and flip back and forth to spot a difference. Yet another case of complexity outgrowing necessity, but that's the way it is and has been.
I've discovered that I go for the more traditional cuts and styles (up to a point). Like, I would never, ever see myself in a tux that's not a dark colour, maybe grey being the highest shade I would go. A white tux appalls me to no end, and don't get me started on the other colours (pimpwear, as I call them). Knowing absolutely nothing about the history of the tux, and maybe having worn one maybe once before (my second sister's wedding, go figure) I've come to the conclusion (no doubt based on years of James Bond, fashion magazines and other such trustworthy and upstanding sources) that a tux should be of dark colour, the darker the better.
I've also realized that I dislike cummerbunds to no end.
UGH. Why do you need that band of colour, in what is an awkward place to draw attention to for most men?
*clears throat*
*lays aside broom and walks over to window*
I went to wikipedia just now to look up the history of the tux. Makes sense that something that's giving me this much trouble would be british in origin (and funnily enough, was popularised by an act intended to enable a lord to get it on with another mans wife. So much for its being the symbol of the wedding, and all that crap). Damn brits, first they colonize my country (well, one of the many, but more on that later) and then they give me this headache. Curse you britannia!!!
*breathes*
Right. So. I've settled on a three button something or other, and this other one that looks really cool (can't remember the names right now, I mean come on, have you seen the names of these things???) and might fit me well, if I can just start exercising again, and stay away from the cigs (24 hours and counting, how many more times will I quit?...anyway). I'm really excited, like, I never thought these things would ever look good on me, much less get married, and here I am, picking out my tux for my wedding.
So excited. Can you tell?
Sure you can.
Peace out, I'm done for the day. Bathe, and then to bed. Tomorrow I've got things to do, and then I gotta go to town to see the pastor. More on that later as well.
Monday, May 5, 2008
The return of the King.
*looks around*
*knocks dust off of overturned chair*
*places chair upright, raising a cloud of dust*
*sneezes*
*sits*
Oh-kay. *dusts off pants* Wow, I've really let this place go to ruin. Haven't been here in ages, and I guess you can take the (past) failure of this as an indication of how things have been going in my life recently. Whoo, haven't been here since...the 27th of Oct. last year. Wow. 6 months and change.
*looks around again*
Its not that this isn't a nice place and, its not that I don't like talking to you all. Its just that sometime I feel pressured, and I realise now that that was the entirely wrong approach to be taking. Sure, its cool to be pressured, it motivates us to bigger and better things. However, we should never let ourselves get so pressured that we lose sight of who we are, and why we're doing the things in the first place. If we do that, then...the whole point of the exercise becomes pointless, and we may as well have been at home, reading manga online for all the good any further pursuit of that venture will do us.
That is what happened to me recently.
*breathes for a few minutes, looking around at the mess, covered furniture and layers of cobwebs and dust*
I forgot why it was I was getting married, hell, I forgot why it was that I was in the relationship with my fiance. Its not because we're going to get married, no, the marriage is the end result of us wanting to be together for the rest of our lives, in a manner that will allow us to be unmolested or shunned (shun the unbeliever, my god, charlie the unicorn, youtube is a time waster's paradise, shun) by all and sundry. Also, since we (all, or most of us at least) were young, we've been taught that that is the socially acceptable thing to do, before man and God; when you find the one you love, and want to make babies, grow these babies, let them out into the crazy ant's nest that's the world, and then grow old and crotchety with this person, you marry this person.
Hence you avoid being shunned and sanctioned by society at large.
So, she and I are getting married. However, somewhere along the way I lost sight of that fact, that the marriage came after the desire to grow old together and whatnot, and that clouded my judgment, perspective, whatever-you-want-to-call-it there for a while, and things got messy, both inside and outside of my head.
Whoo. *looks around again*
But I'm back now, and I've managed to (with the help of a few friends, more on that later) get myself back in the game. Granted, I'm not in the same position that I was in before this...run in with reality (and let me tell you, try and avoid running into reality, its an unforgiving bitch), but where I am, I can make it work, with focus and determination.
And all those other things that they say one needs to have to be successful, but whatever. I'm simply gonna get up everyday and do it to it, that's all. No big philosophy, just a state of mind.
*wipes hands on pants, and rises, stirring up yet more dust*
So, I'm back, as they say, and you'll be seeing a whole lot more of me around here than you did before. I know now that I have no obligation to post here whatsoever, which has, as these things are wont to do, made it that much easier for me to come here and post my thoughts, feelings, musings, brain hiccups, whatever. There's a lot of work to be done with the place, but...its my goddamn place, and the onus is on me to fix it so...lets just get it done.
Right. *looks around* Now, just where the hell do I start....?
P. S. Scouting for Girls is a lovely little indie-pop band. I don't remember exactly how I heard of them (more than likely from the fiance), but I've since acquired their album, and I must say its been holding its own on my playlist for a bit now. Songs like 'Elvis ain't dead' and 'James Bond' illustrates their uniquely british sense of humor, even when dealing with heartbreak and issues of identity (...or at least, I assume that they are...). Also, 'I need a Holiday' is the british look at the grind, and guess what, they hate it as much as we do, if not more so. Topping it all off is their oh so appealing british accent, and youthful earnestness pouring out of each effort (along with a lighthearted but talented instrumentation on every track), and you've got another surefire summer hit reel here folks. Go check it out.
Charlie the Unicorn. Charlie, the goddamned Unicorn. What, the mother****? No, I mean, come on, if I didn't know that it existed before, I've surely just encountered abstract comedy. Sketch comedy, no, this has moved beyond that, to test the edges of what can logically be called a plot and humor. Stop motion unicorns with squeaky voices going on random quests, meeting stranger and stranger individuals, in an ever increasing comedy maelstrom that comes to its inevitable climax with charlie (the third unicorn, if you weren't following) getting shafted in some unspeakable way. Arguably the strangest thing I've seen online in recent memory. But with all that said, then, why do I find it so goddamned hilarious (shun the unbeliever, shun)? Maybe its the voices of the two other unicorns...yeah, that has to be it, the voices make me break out into peals of laughter in public, earning me dark looks from the more upstanding members of our society, those that I've now started referring to as (dear god) unbelievers. I need help. Charlie needs to just wait for those two with an uzi and some c-4, and wipe them out before they can get their mouths open, that's his only chance of a night of peace. As for you...whether or not you go and check out Charlie the Unicorn on youtube is up to you. But remember, you have been warned. Whether or not I have done so adequately, however, well...that remains to be seen, no doesn't it.
Peace.
*knocks dust off of overturned chair*
*places chair upright, raising a cloud of dust*
*sneezes*
*sits*
Oh-kay. *dusts off pants* Wow, I've really let this place go to ruin. Haven't been here in ages, and I guess you can take the (past) failure of this as an indication of how things have been going in my life recently. Whoo, haven't been here since...the 27th of Oct. last year. Wow. 6 months and change.
*looks around again*
Its not that this isn't a nice place and, its not that I don't like talking to you all. Its just that sometime I feel pressured, and I realise now that that was the entirely wrong approach to be taking. Sure, its cool to be pressured, it motivates us to bigger and better things. However, we should never let ourselves get so pressured that we lose sight of who we are, and why we're doing the things in the first place. If we do that, then...the whole point of the exercise becomes pointless, and we may as well have been at home, reading manga online for all the good any further pursuit of that venture will do us.
That is what happened to me recently.
*breathes for a few minutes, looking around at the mess, covered furniture and layers of cobwebs and dust*
I forgot why it was I was getting married, hell, I forgot why it was that I was in the relationship with my fiance. Its not because we're going to get married, no, the marriage is the end result of us wanting to be together for the rest of our lives, in a manner that will allow us to be unmolested or shunned (shun the unbeliever, my god, charlie the unicorn, youtube is a time waster's paradise, shun) by all and sundry. Also, since we (all, or most of us at least) were young, we've been taught that that is the socially acceptable thing to do, before man and God; when you find the one you love, and want to make babies, grow these babies, let them out into the crazy ant's nest that's the world, and then grow old and crotchety with this person, you marry this person.
Hence you avoid being shunned and sanctioned by society at large.
So, she and I are getting married. However, somewhere along the way I lost sight of that fact, that the marriage came after the desire to grow old together and whatnot, and that clouded my judgment, perspective, whatever-you-want-to-call-it there for a while, and things got messy, both inside and outside of my head.
Whoo. *looks around again*
But I'm back now, and I've managed to (with the help of a few friends, more on that later) get myself back in the game. Granted, I'm not in the same position that I was in before this...run in with reality (and let me tell you, try and avoid running into reality, its an unforgiving bitch), but where I am, I can make it work, with focus and determination.
And all those other things that they say one needs to have to be successful, but whatever. I'm simply gonna get up everyday and do it to it, that's all. No big philosophy, just a state of mind.
*wipes hands on pants, and rises, stirring up yet more dust*
So, I'm back, as they say, and you'll be seeing a whole lot more of me around here than you did before. I know now that I have no obligation to post here whatsoever, which has, as these things are wont to do, made it that much easier for me to come here and post my thoughts, feelings, musings, brain hiccups, whatever. There's a lot of work to be done with the place, but...its my goddamn place, and the onus is on me to fix it so...lets just get it done.
Right. *looks around* Now, just where the hell do I start....?
P. S. Scouting for Girls is a lovely little indie-pop band. I don't remember exactly how I heard of them (more than likely from the fiance), but I've since acquired their album, and I must say its been holding its own on my playlist for a bit now. Songs like 'Elvis ain't dead' and 'James Bond' illustrates their uniquely british sense of humor, even when dealing with heartbreak and issues of identity (...or at least, I assume that they are...). Also, 'I need a Holiday' is the british look at the grind, and guess what, they hate it as much as we do, if not more so. Topping it all off is their oh so appealing british accent, and youthful earnestness pouring out of each effort (along with a lighthearted but talented instrumentation on every track), and you've got another surefire summer hit reel here folks. Go check it out.
Charlie the Unicorn. Charlie, the goddamned Unicorn. What, the mother****? No, I mean, come on, if I didn't know that it existed before, I've surely just encountered abstract comedy. Sketch comedy, no, this has moved beyond that, to test the edges of what can logically be called a plot and humor. Stop motion unicorns with squeaky voices going on random quests, meeting stranger and stranger individuals, in an ever increasing comedy maelstrom that comes to its inevitable climax with charlie (the third unicorn, if you weren't following) getting shafted in some unspeakable way. Arguably the strangest thing I've seen online in recent memory. But with all that said, then, why do I find it so goddamned hilarious (shun the unbeliever, shun)? Maybe its the voices of the two other unicorns...yeah, that has to be it, the voices make me break out into peals of laughter in public, earning me dark looks from the more upstanding members of our society, those that I've now started referring to as (dear god) unbelievers. I need help. Charlie needs to just wait for those two with an uzi and some c-4, and wipe them out before they can get their mouths open, that's his only chance of a night of peace. As for you...whether or not you go and check out Charlie the Unicorn on youtube is up to you. But remember, you have been warned. Whether or not I have done so adequately, however, well...that remains to be seen, no doesn't it.
Peace.
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