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, September 20, 2006
I'm dreaming of a quiet night in. No, i'm dreaming of many quiet nights in. Night after night after night that can be spent whiling my time away at home, doing all the things i like to do. i could be working on my comic strip, the thought of which is my chief channel of escapism in the midst of making a film. there are all these books that i have that i want to read, or books that i don't yet have that i want to read more. if i had quiet nights, i would read them. i've been lunching a lot with adrian and chris and if nothing else, eating with these guys reveals to me how few films and tv shows i've not seen this year. if i had night after night of quiet, i could catch up on all of those films.
but will i ever find those nights? i'm so intrinsically driven into projects and activity, i can already see myself going to a hundred and one places to do a hundred and one different things even after the film is cut. even where it's not film related, i think i'll propel myself into one form of engagement or another. it's always like that. but actually, i like being alone and doing my work best. i actually don't know why i get involved in so many things. i like to be alone and i like to work on my things. i wish i had amoebic qualities insofar as i could divide myself and lead two divergent lives - the first, a social maniac, God's little soldier in church, and the second, quiet homedweller, seldom heard and more seldom seen.
when the movie's done, i'm gonna force myself to take a holiday. i actually dream of holidays. but i also wake myself up too much.
1:04 am ]