Youngest kid of six with an inferiority and black sheep complex, but determined that God saves not just his soul to heaven but the remainder of his manic-depressive life, so others won't say he became a Christian and remained a jerk.
i won't be transparent before i'm opaque. and you'll get to know me starting from the small things: who my favourite bands are. what kind of movies i like. who are my heroes.
I’m convinced that when confronted with sincere, real love, the Jesus factor will become obvious. But let’s not plant the cross before we carry it. I’m not trying to con you.
Some dreams are meant to be achieved. I know that. But maybe other dreams are meant to drive us, privately. Never known to anyone but ourselves.
It is a sadness that, when choosing between crying and sighing, will choose sighing. I'd almost say that melancholy is being sad about sadness itself.
On memory and nostalgia
It saddens me when life moves forward and people decide that certain things are worth forgetting.
I've learnt that the word irregardless is filed as a non-standard word in the English language. That's a lexicographer's way of saying it's not a real word.
Crowds are fickle things. So when we stand in the thousands and cry against the present government, do we know who we're actually crying for?
People always want the best for themselves. But I want to sometimes take second or third or fourth best, just so that the loser down the road doesn't always have to come in last. It must feel like shit to always come in last.
On growing old
Leasehold property make me feel sad. It doesn't matter how old the family photos are that you put on your wall. It's your family but it's not really your wall.
I ask you, if God loves everyone, and if God is also incapable of loving evil, how can there be such a thing as an evil man?
On a daily basis
One line quips, like this.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Lunch hours are for lunching. Today's is for cleaning up my desk.
In two days, my office will see a massive cubicle migration, with close to a hundred folk like me picking up our pcs and miscelleaneous office paraphernalia, dumping them on our swivel chairs and rolling them to our new desks. as i type this, my post-hurricane desk now looks somewhat spartan. it reminds me of something calvino wrote, which incidentally didn't take much memory to jog because the words which i'm reminded of are pasted on my cubicle wall, and are among the things i've just taken down.
"As I was saying, how many times, when the past weighed too heavily on me, had I been seized by that hope of a cleaen break: to change jobs, wife, city, continent - one continent after the other, until I made a whole circle - habits, friends, business, customers. It was a mistake, but when I realised that, it was too late.
Because in this way all I did was to accumulate past after past behind me, multplying the pasts, and if one life was too dense and ramified and embroiled for me to bear it was aways with me, imagine so many lives, each with its own past and the pasts of the other lives that continue to become entangled one with the others. It was all very well for me to say each time: What a relief, I'll turn the mileage back to zero, I'll erase the blackboard."
i wish i knew which piece of calvino this came from, but i don't. it was diligently transcribed from page to screen by jan, and emailed to me in response to one of my previous blog posts, which was also about change.
there's something about moving that i partly dislike very much, but for the greater part am tremendously drawn to. the lure of beginning a new life, erasing the past and the excitement of a clean slate is overrated, never truly complete, yet always so compelling. it's like a writer, having killed off everyone, he razes the city, and then begins a new book.
2:05 pm ]