A VERY LONG COMMENTARY (SUPPOSEDLY)
The ice age is over.
If you've been wondering why I haven't been writing for the past million decades, I have been locked up in a tower where fire-breathing drakes and dragons surround its haunting territory. Torturous, yes. But well, I'm not actually telling the truth here, well, obviously. Truth is, it's really the loss of technology that had messed me up. It's horrible I tell you. However, in spite of the conditions, I have managed to write down some notes on some sheets and I will share them to you now. These are just few collections of thoughts that accumulated in my barren mind, so here goes (and by the way, I'll make this really quick and informal, you have no idea how glad I am to be back on cyberspace and how hard it is to handle 200 messages, most of the messages are already in digests okay, so they are plenty indeed).
In terms of physicality, gluttony has indeed got the best out of me. I weigh a lot more than ideal weight however, I could care any less. I enjoy eating, nuts, most especially; cracker nuts, more specifically. It's enjoyable, while watching that lame old romance flick, the characters in the film exalt as they feel the most enjoyable feeling that is love whilst I enjoy the feeling of full-fillment. However, an incident which I just found out lately, makes me think otherwise. When I was younger, I never thought that I snore when I sleep. Most of my relatives do; and all of them have symptoms of heart ailments, which I doubt I have. Several nights ago, waking up after one of my daily sleeps, my mom came to call my attention of how loud I snore. It was then when I had the great fear of death by heart attack. I don't actually prefer that kind of death, (do we ever prefer a method?) because it's uncertain and could even mean a longer spell of suffering - veggie style. If ever I want to die, and as I have mentioned to some of my friends, I would want to have a death by gunshot. Fast and perhaps certain (depending on which part that was hit) fills my contentment. And so one night, when I was taking a ride on a public utility vehicle, when I saw that man holding a plastic bag that contained a gun (the man, by the way was sitting just right in front of me) I feared I had finally come to face the method of death I had asked for. But hey, I'm still alive, so there's no sense dwelling on this anymore. Next topic please.
Aside from munching and gulping, another thing that had kept me preoccupied (as expected of my character) was the art of couch potatoeing. From the dusty streets of Sunset Blvd. to the colors of Gone With The Wind, the trails of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, where I realized that I am Joel, the wandering magic of the Wonder Boys, and the beauty that is La Vita E Bella - had it not been for films like these, my brain might have been a meshed pulp right now. It was nice to go back to the films which I have loved, right when I was just beginning with this passion. Through this, I had also learned not to trust my initial judgments. Roberto Benigni was superb, as Bill Murray is in Broken Flowers. Broken Flowers of Focus Features of course. Why, if I'd somehow, some way through the love of the Lord, make it to the holy land that is Hollywood, I would love to make pictures courtesy of Focus Features. I feel that the films they create represent my vision, or vice versa. Or if not, I would at least love one of my writings turn into a film by them. That would just be as nice. Speaking of writing, I had observed that most of my writings, aside from their tragic themes, have the tendency to turn into thrillers, I don't know where that came from, what influence had brought that about, but it's pretty much dominant - try reading Gobi if you have yet to read it; even id. has a tinge of thrill to it (aside from the famoso cybersex scene of course you Bozo) And yes, lately, I have began to appreciate the spur of the moment writing like one night when I was on a cab (thank heavens I brought a pen) I had a 'brilliant' breakthrough (it was a thriller yes) and with the pumping excitement I had to write on a paper bag. Perhaps with this I'm learning to forget my fascination of having a typist on my brain print my thoughts (coming out from my tongue?) whenever I want. And speaking of genres, I just had to say that I think war films are pathetic (more on this on a future feature) and the genderlect movement is evil and conceited as always.
Yes, you can react in whatever way you want to react with that statement. Having said that, I must say that free will is amazing. It's a great and often effective excuse for the stupid things men do. I have an example but with the use of my free will, I choose not to say it also because I'm still somewhat frantic, excited and perky. I do want to make the most out of the raw, abstract concept of free will before the teaching of theology formalize and box it, thank you. Speaking of theology, I am quite disheartened by recitation of prayers, as much as they are powerful, sometimes they tend to be meaningless (as if they were like your favorite songs, and when you hear them you follow) and panny (funny and pathetic at the same time like when people tend to recite out loud and fast at the same time; it's almost like you just want to get over it) And yes, if you have noticed, I am still somewhat bumped and shaken by the events as you can trace the hints of insanity through my words and the manner which I speak right now. Losing something you were very much accustomed to, really hurts. However, in the good side of things, I have kept my insanity, thanks to the wonders of television namely the bitch models and their cat fights, gay men and struggling women who create clothes from leaves and twigs, and of course the colored animalistic woman who jackhammers her Australia. Yes, these things have indeed helped me maintain my sanity (if indeed I have one) I also find it funny how TV hosts try to vacuum their antics with the MTRCB officials.
In the end, I would like to say that words are meaningless, you can say something but it's meaning is far away or even has no meaning at all (yes, like when I say I want to hold someone's hands so badly or I believe that all of us should have our own flirt buddies [flirt not fuck okay] it doesn't mean anything at all; I just enjoy saying it and seeing your reaction; screw semiotics [nah, thanks for the A by the way]). It's like watercolors. Well, actually no... or I don't know. I just wanted to say it because I have been enjoying working with it lately. I made a portrait of a woman, but it was too imperfect according to my vision therefore I had it transform into a painting of a battered woman being sucked by a vortex, comfortably numb. I stare onto her eyes and I see a powerful expression (no this isn't self exaltation), it's the opposite - something made out of nothing actually. So what's my point, nothing actually, everything I had written here is gibberish... meaningless, as mentioned. Well, of course not. All I can say is that I'm glad to be back.No more concentration camp, no more wars. Peace, love and Nagaraya!
Oh and yes, if not for her, that wondrous moment I would have gone straight to the nut house but I guess one flew over the cuckoo's nest!
If you've been wondering why I haven't been writing for the past million decades, I have been locked up in a tower where fire-breathing drakes and dragons surround its haunting territory. Torturous, yes. But well, I'm not actually telling the truth here, well, obviously. Truth is, it's really the loss of technology that had messed me up. It's horrible I tell you. However, in spite of the conditions, I have managed to write down some notes on some sheets and I will share them to you now. These are just few collections of thoughts that accumulated in my barren mind, so here goes (and by the way, I'll make this really quick and informal, you have no idea how glad I am to be back on cyberspace and how hard it is to handle 200 messages, most of the messages are already in digests okay, so they are plenty indeed).
In terms of physicality, gluttony has indeed got the best out of me. I weigh a lot more than ideal weight however, I could care any less. I enjoy eating, nuts, most especially; cracker nuts, more specifically. It's enjoyable, while watching that lame old romance flick, the characters in the film exalt as they feel the most enjoyable feeling that is love whilst I enjoy the feeling of full-fillment. However, an incident which I just found out lately, makes me think otherwise. When I was younger, I never thought that I snore when I sleep. Most of my relatives do; and all of them have symptoms of heart ailments, which I doubt I have. Several nights ago, waking up after one of my daily sleeps, my mom came to call my attention of how loud I snore. It was then when I had the great fear of death by heart attack. I don't actually prefer that kind of death, (do we ever prefer a method?) because it's uncertain and could even mean a longer spell of suffering - veggie style. If ever I want to die, and as I have mentioned to some of my friends, I would want to have a death by gunshot. Fast and perhaps certain (depending on which part that was hit) fills my contentment. And so one night, when I was taking a ride on a public utility vehicle, when I saw that man holding a plastic bag that contained a gun (the man, by the way was sitting just right in front of me) I feared I had finally come to face the method of death I had asked for. But hey, I'm still alive, so there's no sense dwelling on this anymore. Next topic please.
Aside from munching and gulping, another thing that had kept me preoccupied (as expected of my character) was the art of couch potatoeing. From the dusty streets of Sunset Blvd. to the colors of Gone With The Wind, the trails of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, where I realized that I am Joel, the wandering magic of the Wonder Boys, and the beauty that is La Vita E Bella - had it not been for films like these, my brain might have been a meshed pulp right now. It was nice to go back to the films which I have loved, right when I was just beginning with this passion. Through this, I had also learned not to trust my initial judgments. Roberto Benigni was superb, as Bill Murray is in Broken Flowers. Broken Flowers of Focus Features of course. Why, if I'd somehow, some way through the love of the Lord, make it to the holy land that is Hollywood, I would love to make pictures courtesy of Focus Features. I feel that the films they create represent my vision, or vice versa. Or if not, I would at least love one of my writings turn into a film by them. That would just be as nice. Speaking of writing, I had observed that most of my writings, aside from their tragic themes, have the tendency to turn into thrillers, I don't know where that came from, what influence had brought that about, but it's pretty much dominant - try reading Gobi if you have yet to read it; even id. has a tinge of thrill to it (aside from the famoso cybersex scene of course you Bozo) And yes, lately, I have began to appreciate the spur of the moment writing like one night when I was on a cab (thank heavens I brought a pen) I had a 'brilliant' breakthrough (it was a thriller yes) and with the pumping excitement I had to write on a paper bag. Perhaps with this I'm learning to forget my fascination of having a typist on my brain print my thoughts (coming out from my tongue?) whenever I want. And speaking of genres, I just had to say that I think war films are pathetic (more on this on a future feature) and the genderlect movement is evil and conceited as always.
Yes, you can react in whatever way you want to react with that statement. Having said that, I must say that free will is amazing. It's a great and often effective excuse for the stupid things men do. I have an example but with the use of my free will, I choose not to say it also because I'm still somewhat frantic, excited and perky. I do want to make the most out of the raw, abstract concept of free will before the teaching of theology formalize and box it, thank you. Speaking of theology, I am quite disheartened by recitation of prayers, as much as they are powerful, sometimes they tend to be meaningless (as if they were like your favorite songs, and when you hear them you follow) and panny (funny and pathetic at the same time like when people tend to recite out loud and fast at the same time; it's almost like you just want to get over it) And yes, if you have noticed, I am still somewhat bumped and shaken by the events as you can trace the hints of insanity through my words and the manner which I speak right now. Losing something you were very much accustomed to, really hurts. However, in the good side of things, I have kept my insanity, thanks to the wonders of television namely the bitch models and their cat fights, gay men and struggling women who create clothes from leaves and twigs, and of course the colored animalistic woman who jackhammers her Australia. Yes, these things have indeed helped me maintain my sanity (if indeed I have one) I also find it funny how TV hosts try to vacuum their antics with the MTRCB officials.
In the end, I would like to say that words are meaningless, you can say something but it's meaning is far away or even has no meaning at all (yes, like when I say I want to hold someone's hands so badly or I believe that all of us should have our own flirt buddies [flirt not fuck okay] it doesn't mean anything at all; I just enjoy saying it and seeing your reaction; screw semiotics [nah, thanks for the A by the way]). It's like watercolors. Well, actually no... or I don't know. I just wanted to say it because I have been enjoying working with it lately. I made a portrait of a woman, but it was too imperfect according to my vision therefore I had it transform into a painting of a battered woman being sucked by a vortex, comfortably numb. I stare onto her eyes and I see a powerful expression (no this isn't self exaltation), it's the opposite - something made out of nothing actually. So what's my point, nothing actually, everything I had written here is gibberish... meaningless, as mentioned. Well, of course not. All I can say is that I'm glad to be back.No more concentration camp, no more wars. Peace, love and Nagaraya!
Oh and yes, if not for her, that wondrous moment I would have gone straight to the nut house but I guess one flew over the cuckoo's nest!
'How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd'
-Alexander Pope
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd'
-Alexander Pope
Kram's cut at 12:07 AM |
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