Pages

Friday, January 29, 2010

Kitteh



Hi.

Did you know that an earthworm has 5 hearts? Urgh.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Dictionaries' Stories


Those little voices, they bring tidings of an impending misery.
Misery, that of which begets woe.
Woe, that of which begets a frailty deep within the corners of my mind.

Writing about the simple, everyday things in life has come to a grinding halt.


Loosely translated, it could possibly mean blogging.
(shrugs) Pah, nomenclature. I bet "translated" doesn't even come close to the right word.

But, I digress.


Instead, those swirling thoughts are either carefully nitpicked to fit in here - nothing too offensive or infuriating, for instance - or stored safely away in the drafts, locked, keys swallowed.


Why?


'Cause of all you pestilent judgmental creatures.
'Cause you can never be too good at what you do.
'Cause love and hate, both sides are conjoined. Physical forms have to deal with both sides of the coin.




All of us were wrong, except for you.

Silly little smart girl.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Potong

Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.



My my, what is it, really -
Your inability, miss sully
to abort mission completely?

Your idea,
most childlike
like "dire rear"

Not quite.

I vowed, sorta,
to keep the beasties in check.
In rank and file and order,
to separate train from wreck.

Ergo, darling,
Friend or foe,
Scissor it - shoestrings, ties not bows.


- Anger, Janyuar2010

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Fine

Reporting in on the fifth day of a new decade, for I am but as lazy as always.

How's everybody a-doin'?

Uni life had finally hit a brick wall and broke through it with might and much glory. I am now an aimless and purposeless being grasping around in the dark for the slightest semblance of...sense and gleaming hope and ambition whatnot and the like.

I foresee more updates, seeing that my schedule is in its lightest of states. (That is, if Glee and Californication have unsuccessfully snatched and whisked me away from the outside, sunny outside.)

For now, I want a workstation - for order, in rank and file, to sit up straight and sit back pillared.


Happy 2010!


Monday, December 21, 2009

Effy

There was a girl who could only live on lemonade. Or her parents were really old and rubbish and just kept giving it to her to the point where she couldn’t have anything else. Or they were really nice and only gave it to her because they really liked her. I can’t decide that bit but she could only live on lemonade. If she didn’t have lemonade, she’d die. And her parents were going to die soon too because they had something wrong with them that their blood was blue or something like that. And she had a brother but he was really stupid, though, no one really cared about him. They just wanted their little girl to live. The only trouble is, no one thought about her brother. She was in a bottle, he was on his own, no one thought about him. They just left him. So he sat by her, her brother, he sat by her in the bottle and ‘cause lemonade helped her eyesight, she could see him really clearly through the sides, even though the grass was as a thick as his skull. And cause it was the countryside, there was nothing for him to eat, nothing for him to buy and he was starving. And she could see that and there was no one looking after him, cause he was a bit stupid, couldn’t really look after himself, and it kept on raining so he was getting a bit rusty. She was having an amazing time with the lemonade but she knew she had to help him, so she swam to the surface but she couldn’t get out, it was too far away, this bottle was too big. She knew she had to do something, he was getting worse and worse and worse and he was really hungry and thirsty and he started eating glass and puking up all the time. So she tried to think of some plan for him but she couldn’t. All she knew is that he needed her with him. All she could do was watch him puke his guts up on the other side of the glass. But then bingo, she knew. She started to drink and she drank and she drank and she drank. And this was a lot of lemonade, enough to last her till she died, cause her parents wanted her to live for ages but she drank, every last drop, until she was in an empty bottle but that was no good, she still couldn’t get out. But that was okay, because she just waited until she had a big one stored up. Because she drank all the pop, she drank all the lemonade. And then she started to fart. It was slow at first but then it was really loud and hard. She blew her way out of the bottle, straight from the top, like a rocket. Then she stopped her brother eating grass and they went and found a nice little house to live in together, her and her brother. And it turned out drinking all that lemonade had cured her because she never wanted it again. She had orange for the rest of her life.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Perception

Something to think about….

thethreeofus:  quietly-explosive:  brasilpop:  minaslumber:  inspiri:thinkofprettythings:laeticia: Perception Something to think about…. Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule. 4 minutes later: The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk. 6 minutes: A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again. 10 minutes: A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly. 45 minutes:The musician played continuously.  Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace.  The man collected a total of $32. 1 hour: He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition. No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100. This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities. The questions raised: *In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty? *Do we stop to appreciate it? *Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context? One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made. How many other things are we missing? (via mzreport)     i’d be the kid

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people’s priorities.

The questions raised:

*In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

*Do we stop to appreciate it?

*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made.

How many other things are we missing?

Monday, November 30, 2009

Aaand this is why I have been MIA



Click on image to enlarge?


Sunday, October 25, 2009

Cognizance



Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?


100 Beautifuls


Ailurophile
A cat-lover.
Assemblage A gathering.
Becoming Attractive.
Beleaguer To exhaust with attacks.
Brood To think alone.
Bucolic In a lovely rural setting.
Bungalow A small, cozy cottage.
Chatoyant Like a cat’s eye.
Comely Attractive.

Conflate To blend together.
Cynosure A focal point of admiration.
Dalliance A brief love affair.
Demesne Dominion, territory.
Demure Shy and reserved.
Denouement The resolution of a mystery.
Desuetude Disuse.
Desultory Slow, sluggish.

Diaphanous Filmy.
Dissemble Deceive.
Dulcet Sweet, sugary.
Ebullience Bubbling enthusiasm.
Effervescent Bubbly.
Efflorescence Flowering, blooming.
Elision Dropping a sound or syllable in a word.
Elixir A good potion.
Eloquence Beauty and persuasion in speech.
Embrocation Rubbing on a lotion.
Emollient A softener.
Ephemeral Short-lived.
Epiphany A sudden revelation.

Erstwhile At one time, for a time.
Ethereal Gaseous, invisible but detectable.
Evanescent Vanishing quickly, lasting a very short time.
Evocative Suggestive.
Fetching Pretty.
Felicity Pleasantness.

Forbearance Withholding response to provocation.
Fugacious Fleeting.
Furtive Shifty, sneaky.

Gambol To skip or leap about joyfully.
Glamour Beauty.
Gossamer The finest piece of thread, a spider’s silk.
Halcyon Happy, sunny, care-free.
Harbinger Messenger with news of the future.
Imbrication Overlapping and forming a regular pattern.
Imbroglio An altercation or complicated situation.
Imbue To infuse, instill.
Incipient Beginning, in an early stage.
Ineffable Unutterable, inexpressible.
Ingénue A naïve young woman.
Inglenook A cozy nook by the hearth.

Insouciance Blithe nonchalance.
Inure To become jaded.
Labyrinthine Twisting and turning.
Lagniappe A special kind of gift.
Lagoon A small gulf or inlet.
Languor Listlessness, inactivity.
Lassitude Weariness, listlessness.
Leisure Free time.
Lilt To move musically or lively.
Lissome Slender and graceful.
Lithe Slender and flexible.
Love Deep affection.

Mellifluous Sweet sounding.
Moiety One of two equal parts.
Mondegreen A slip of the ear.
Murmurous Murmuring.
Nemesis An unconquerable archenemy.
Offing The sea between the horizon and the offshore.
Onomatopoeia A word that sounds like its meaning.
Opulent Lush, luxuriant.
Palimpsest A manuscript written over earlier ones.
Panacea A solution for all problems
Panoply A complete set.
Pastiche An art work combining materials from various sources.
Penumbra A half-shadow.

Petrichor The smell of earth after rain.
Plethora A large quantity.
Propinquity An inclination.
Pyrrhic Successful with heavy losses.
Quintessential Most essential.
Ratatouille A spicy French stew.
Ravel To knit or unknit.
Redolent Fragrant.
Riparian By the bank of a stream.
Ripple A very small wave.
Scintilla A spark or very small thing.
Sempiternal Eternal.

Seraglio Rich, luxurious oriental palace or harem.
Serendipity Finding something nice while looking for something else.
Summery Light, delicate or warm and sunny.
Sumptuous Lush, luxurious.
Surreptitious Secretive, sneaky.
Susquehanna A river in Pennsylvania.
Susurrous Whispering, hissing.
Talisman A good luck charm.
Tintinnabulation Tinkling.
Umbrella Protection from sun or rain.
Untoward Unseemly, inappropriate.
Vestigial In trace amounts.
Wafture Waving.
Wherewithal The means.

Woebegone Sorrowful, downcast.


The grayness is the hopelessness.

You are the only person that’s made for you, and until you understand that person, until you know them intimately, on every level, from where they’ve come from to where they’re going, until you know their values and their dreams and their dreads, you can’t really be said to love anyone else. Love is the recognition and reflection of your highest values in another, and until you recognise them in yourself, until you become the whole you’re supposed to be, you certainly won’t find them in anyone else.

All that said, people come into our lives for a reason, and it’s up to us to discover that reason, experience it to its fullest, learn from it the hardest way we can. If it’s love it should bleed a little, it should hurt as much as it heals, it should leaves bumps and bruises and scars. And of course when they leave it’s in our nature to yearn after the happiness that we had, rather than being thankful that we had it at all and looking forward to being happy today, and every today to follow, regardless of who we might be sharing it with. You can fall in love multiple times due in large part to your own growth and changing values, and discovering them reflected in others throughout your life - the clinch of course being that sometimes you grow in a different direction and fall out of love, or they do, or you both do.

There is nothing worse than a love of habit or a love of convenience, like two crutches standing only by virtue of one supporting the other, and neither capable of standing on its own.