|
BLOGGER
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.
MAIN THEMES
On identity 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. On Christianity 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. On dreams 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.
OTHER THEMES
On melancholy 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. On language 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. On politics 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? On society 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. On philosophy 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. CHAT
VISITORS
FEEDS 
ARCHIVE
March 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 July 2005 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 February 2010 June 2010 |
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Movies have terminally ruined my ability to swim at night.Last week, i determined to go for a swim in the evening, sometime circa 7. but no thanks to another rainstorm, my determination had to be put on hold such that by the time the sky had cleared and i was still willing, it was sometime circa 8. It's not that bad when you have people to swim with, and by that i mean people you know, people with whom you'll talk in the pool and swim together. I'm not talking about strangers in the pool, though having strangers around still helps. But it didn't help. It didn't help that in spite of the fact that there were 3 or 4 people at any one time there, that every time i duck my head into the water, all i could see was the murky bed of the pool floor, the foggy blue tiles, the distant round dispersed lights, and this:  it was absolutely useless! i tried swimming freestyle keeping my head up on both sides, but that didn't quite work. i tried doing breaststroke with my head up the whole time, but that didn't work either. i swam backstroke for like, two laps. swimming just isn't swimming if you can't put your head underwater. I even turned to singing. Humming in a squeezed out shiver, i feebly comforted myself with a fear-drenched rendition of "Jesus loves me this i know... (clench teeth) ... for the bible tells me so... (paddle faster)..." Forget it. In fifteen minutes, i was out. shuddering not to the cold but to my wildest media-inspired imagination, i dragged my feet back upstairs, sighing all the way. so to one man, i have this to say: DAMN YOU STEVEN SPIELBERG! DAMN YOU FOR RUINING MY PERFECTLY GOOD PSYCHE! YOU HORRIBLE, WICKED MAN! Labels: identity Genusfrog [
10:33 am ]
 
|
3 Comments:
hahaha..you sound like me swimming at night...
By
Anonymous, at 3:39 pm
Da dum... da dum.... dadadadadada (hummed to the tune of Jaws).
By
Anonymous, at 3:59 pm
well, it used to be so bad for me when I was a kid that even when I was in the shower, I would see the shark from Jaws.
By
Anonymous, at 10:45 pm
Post a Comment
<< Home