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
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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 |
Friday, November 30, 2007
THE GAPI shall sit back and watch vesuvius happen now. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
11:20 am ]
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Thursday, November 29, 2007
STOP HEREThis road is not for you. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
5:51 pm ]
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Wednesday, November 28, 2007
WHATEVER I'M COMING DOWN WITH......ain't warm. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
10:57 am ]
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Tuesday, November 27, 2007
PHANTOM LIGHTSThey came on again. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
9:52 pm ]
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Monday, November 26, 2007
7PMAnother nightfall in the wasteland. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
7:00 pm ]
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Sunday, November 25, 2007
LABORWorkers of Australia, unite! Labels: daily Genusfrog [
4:43 pm ]
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Saturday, November 24, 2007
HA!I didn't have to play! Labels: daily Genusfrog [
4:45 pm ]
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Friday, November 23, 2007
NO INSTRUMENTALS!Ok, maybe just one so I can dance. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
5:55 pm ]
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Thursday, November 22, 2007
FINALLYSack him! Labels: daily Genusfrog [
5:06 pm ]
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Wednesday, November 21, 2007
REMOTELike pressing a heart button from far. Genusfrog [
3:28 pm ]
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Tuesday, November 20, 2007
GRASSWhen everything is done, I wanna lie in the sun. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
4:05 pm ]
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![]() ![]() ![]() There are too few quiet places in this world. everywhere you go, there's the clicking of keyboards, the cacophony of ringtones, the roar of highways, and the garbagenoise of television. i desperately long for an extended amount of time in a very, very quiet place. a place that's green and blue, with cool air, the lull of a breeze, sunlight breaking through leaves, the fresh smell of dry grass, the plop of fish in the water and birds, chirping or fluttering. and the rest... quiet. a book. sunlight. a ham sandwich. a bottle of orange juice. no cellphones. no cars. a mile of walking. half a day of sitting under the sky. no noise. just quiet. Labels: dreams Genusfrog [
3:45 pm ]
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Monday, November 19, 2007
THE ORDEROne at a time, it happens. Labels: daily Genusfrog [
6:29 pm ]
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![]() ![]() ![]() The collins dictionary let me down today. i don't like it's definition of melancholy. the collins advanced learner's defines melancholy as "an intense sadness". i disagree. the relationship between melancholy and sadness cannot be one of degrees. if anything, a very intense sadness could possibly be mistaken for depression, but certainly not melancholy. melancholy, as i've always known it, is a detached variety of sadness. it is a sadness that, when choosing between crying and sighing, will choose sighing. it's a sadness that stands outside of itself and feels the quiet pang of loss rather than the raw pain of it. i'd almost go as far as to say that melancholy is being sad about sadness itself. it's like looking back on an unfortunate event from a place that doesn't feel the firsthand sadness - the sadness is now secondhand, no longer played out on ground zero but watched from the rooftop, looking down. it moves from being a sadness for to being a sadness about. yes, i think this is melancholy. collins = fallible. i've been feeling a bit melancholy lately. i don't mind it. it's actually quite nice. Labels: language, melancholy Genusfrog [
5:45 pm ]
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Tuesday, November 13, 2007
![]() "While sending you home last night, I got lost in the city. I drove for hours in the swell of roads that seemed to rearrange themselves whenever I wasn't looking. You were asleep. I drove in concentric circles in to the heart of this strange and despairing place. Eventually I found my way to your house. All you had left for me was a kiss and goodnight. And as I watched you disappear behind the doors, I thought about you and the bizarre city. And I thought, for what? For what, do I crawl my way out of this asphalt labyrinth? Just so I can part with you? Just so I can part... with you? For that alone, I consider it cruelty." - Fabrizio Bazzani, The city I love Bazzani is right. why do we sometimes fight so hard just so that we can do something we've always dreaded doing? is it because of duty? is it obligation? duty to whom? and what obligated it so? i've found that in life, maybe we do too many things that we'd rather not do, believing on the outside that there's no other way, but secretly knowing that there is. Labels: melancholy Genusfrog [
8:01 am ]
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Tuesday, November 06, 2007
![]() When you break up, do you throw away all your photographs together? i have. all it took was dragging one folder into the bin and emptying it. and almost magically, it's as if you can forget the past. it's not that you can't. it's just that it's absurd. throwing away old photographs is like denying a portion of your life. it's like saying that for x number of months, somewhere in some now indistinct past, you didn't exist. you don't talk about it anymore, you don't have documents to show for it anymore and you certainly don't have pictorial memories of it anymore. while at its best, it looks like a disciplined operation to move on and not dwell in the past, at its worst, it's a disciplined operation to pretend that you never did live. i don't know what to do with my past now that i've thrown away all my photographs. i understand why i've trashed some memories - however good they were - but i also now understand why it's sad that some pasts have no place in a life that must move forward. i also don't know what to do with the gaping hole in my personal history books now that i've censored my own existence. new memories will be formed, will propel me forward and will keep on shaping me. but new memories should not replace old memories. they should sit chronologically in front and sentimentally on top, but our hearts are not hard drives. you can't overwrite one cluster with new knowledge. but maybe throwing away these photos is the only thing that can help you take new ones. maybe the only way into a meaningful and reconciled future is the denying of your once-meaningful but irreconcilable past. photos, then, merely act as a substitute. a symbol of not just a person but of mondays and sundays and streets and parks. and burning them is like burning away an old house so that you can build from the earth again. Labels: melancholy, memory and nostalgia Genusfrog [
7:00 pm ]
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Friday, November 02, 2007
![]() Do you remember your yearbook photos from school? i remember all of mine, from form one to form four. i've got them all in an album. you can see how we grew up. i remember also the day we took our form five class photos. i remember where i stood. what the day was like. i don't think i missed a normal schooling day in form five. at least not until a day when i had a fever. went to school the next day and they told me the photographer came back yesterday. something happened to his film so he came by to reshoot my class photo. just like that. no announcement, no forewarning. i was out of my final year's yearbook and it was over a silly fever. i never claimed my copy of that yearbook. i remember wanting to dissociate myself from it, knowing fully well that i wasn't represented there. so today, i have no form five yearbook. i don't regret not owning it. it would hurt a lot more to have it lying around knowing that i remember everything about the photography day and still not ending up in the pictures. i wonder, when my school friends grow old and look at that yearbook, will they remember all the faces in the class? chances are, they won't. being photographed is no guarantee of being memorable. but not being photographed doesn't make things better. an unmemorable but photographed face can still conjure an imagination of who a person was, regardless of how unfaithful that imagination may be. but an unphotographed person, no matter how memorable, has no place in the pages of some of life's inane histories. his place is in the hazy recollections of forgetful people. and while photographs never fade, memory does. when i woke up this morning, i remembered my form five yearbook. and i feel sad for all the boys like me, who also didn't show up on that random day when the photographer came back. i'm sure some of them don't care about such memories. somehow, that seems to sadden me even more. Labels: melancholy, memory and nostalgia |