Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Up yours Courts!
For the past three days, I tossed and turned at night. My mind's eye was filled with surges of information, flowing rapidly across the firing neurons in my cerebral matter, keeping the imagination alive, in a constant state of semi-awakeness.
I couldn't take it.
Something had to break.
I rushed down, taking care to note what I was doing. I touched it gingerly, afraid I was going to break it. Thoughts rushed across my mind - Would i regret it? Is this a rash decision? What will people say?
I braced myself.
I took out my wallet, and placed it on the table.
"You know what you have to do."
It just laid there, quietly mocking me.
I solemnly took out a lighter, and flicked it on.
"I don't like to do this."
It just laid there, in a stoic silence.
I reverently carried it, and hoisted it above the flame... Watching as the ashes flew.
Pleased by the sacrifice, the Lady smiled.
I wondered to myself - What have I done?
And i knew the sacrifice was worth it.
Up yours Courts! $888 for a D40 my ass.
D40 with 18-55mm kit lens + 2 GB SD card + Tamrac bag = $700
More pictures when i learn how to use this bugger properly.
I couldn't take it.
Something had to break.
I rushed down, taking care to note what I was doing. I touched it gingerly, afraid I was going to break it. Thoughts rushed across my mind - Would i regret it? Is this a rash decision? What will people say?
I braced myself.
I took out my wallet, and placed it on the table.
"You know what you have to do."
It just laid there, quietly mocking me.
I solemnly took out a lighter, and flicked it on.
"I don't like to do this."
It just laid there, in a stoic silence.
I reverently carried it, and hoisted it above the flame... Watching as the ashes flew.
Pleased by the sacrifice, the Lady smiled.
I wondered to myself - What have I done?
And i knew the sacrifice was worth it.Up yours Courts! $888 for a D40 my ass.
D40 with 18-55mm kit lens + 2 GB SD card + Tamrac bag = $700
More pictures when i learn how to use this bugger properly.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Pocket Revolutions
(Blogging from the Airport, waiting for a Jack)
I happened to stumble upon this sight as i left a cubicle -
Truly, a poetic moment of rebellion.
A little symbol, stuck in an in-obtrusive location. In the most public of places, yet the most secluded of places.
It is nothing special actually, just another prosaic moment in life. But I find something definitive in the expression, a yearning for exposition, a pocket revolution.
It is the lot of the son to rebel against the father, an almost psychological urge to prove himself different, to assert his unique identity and set it aside from the generation before. It fulfills a basic need for identity, and to differentiate the individual assertion from the mundanity of the collective consciousness.
In such cases, laymen assert the claim that "rules are meant to be broken", as a symbol and driving mantra of those who seek fulfillment from the development of the individual psyche, an envelopment of a angst ridden mind with the little liberties and tinglings of freedom of expression, against the backdrop of a totalitarian rule, of nation, of society, of family.
However, such expressions are by nature selfish. It is the individual who benefits from such acts, the fulfillment of individual wants and needs, an action for the betterment of a singularity. Unavoidable as it is, it betrays a lack of understanding of the collective, the implicit nature of collaboration that is society, where each have their own part to play, driving the collective into progress, freshness and advancement.
The irony of the situation being that an individual, once subsumed into the collective masses, does not retain his unique identity and marker, and thus being unable to stand out from the crowds of mundanity, loses a certain power of the singularity. Society depends on the outcasts to redefine itself, to make trends move onwards, to push the borders of known thought.
A balancing act that teeters on oblivion, the individual resists the attempt to normalise himself, driving himself to further and further extremes in behavior. Thus the revolutionary is born, an expression against the world social order, a revolt against the norms.
Or perhaps its just some lazy bugger who didn't bother to just throw it away properly. God knows how many lazy people there are in this world.
Or is it?
I happened to stumble upon this sight as i left a cubicle -
Truly, a poetic moment of rebellion.
A little symbol, stuck in an in-obtrusive location. In the most public of places, yet the most secluded of places.
It is nothing special actually, just another prosaic moment in life. But I find something definitive in the expression, a yearning for exposition, a pocket revolution.
It is the lot of the son to rebel against the father, an almost psychological urge to prove himself different, to assert his unique identity and set it aside from the generation before. It fulfills a basic need for identity, and to differentiate the individual assertion from the mundanity of the collective consciousness.
In such cases, laymen assert the claim that "rules are meant to be broken", as a symbol and driving mantra of those who seek fulfillment from the development of the individual psyche, an envelopment of a angst ridden mind with the little liberties and tinglings of freedom of expression, against the backdrop of a totalitarian rule, of nation, of society, of family.
However, such expressions are by nature selfish. It is the individual who benefits from such acts, the fulfillment of individual wants and needs, an action for the betterment of a singularity. Unavoidable as it is, it betrays a lack of understanding of the collective, the implicit nature of collaboration that is society, where each have their own part to play, driving the collective into progress, freshness and advancement.
The irony of the situation being that an individual, once subsumed into the collective masses, does not retain his unique identity and marker, and thus being unable to stand out from the crowds of mundanity, loses a certain power of the singularity. Society depends on the outcasts to redefine itself, to make trends move onwards, to push the borders of known thought.
A balancing act that teeters on oblivion, the individual resists the attempt to normalise himself, driving himself to further and further extremes in behavior. Thus the revolutionary is born, an expression against the world social order, a revolt against the norms.
Or perhaps its just some lazy bugger who didn't bother to just throw it away properly. God knows how many lazy people there are in this world.
Or is it?
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Every Breath You Take
Every breath you take
(and release, slowly expressing yourself in an explosion of emotion)
Every move you make
(taking in sweet release, covering the world in a haze of colour)
Every bond you break
(into a million little pieces, too small to see, lying around an arterial chamber)
Every step you take
(away, without looking back, always focused inwards, never into the distance)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Every single day
(and night it commands my mind)
Every word you say
(in anger, in sweetness, in sternness, in love)
Every game you play
(throwing my heart to new heights, sinking to deeper depths)
Every night you stay
(in your dreams, in your nightmares)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Oh, cant you see
(pain within belies pain without)
You belong to me
(and i was meant for you)
How my poor heart aches
(pounding, ripping, tearing)
With every step you take
(away from me)
Every move you make
(sensuous, vivacious, alluring)
Every vow you break
(over and over again)
Every smile you fake
(for yourself, for myself, for ourselves)
Every claim you stake
(for I'm yours, now and forever)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
(and release, slowly expressing yourself in an explosion of emotion)
Every move you make
(taking in sweet release, covering the world in a haze of colour)
Every bond you break
(into a million little pieces, too small to see, lying around an arterial chamber)
Every step you take
(away, without looking back, always focused inwards, never into the distance)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Every single day
(and night it commands my mind)
Every word you say
(in anger, in sweetness, in sternness, in love)
Every game you play
(throwing my heart to new heights, sinking to deeper depths)
Every night you stay
(in your dreams, in your nightmares)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Oh, cant you see
(pain within belies pain without)
You belong to me
(and i was meant for you)
How my poor heart aches
(pounding, ripping, tearing)
With every step you take
(away from me)
Every move you make
(sensuous, vivacious, alluring)
Every vow you break
(over and over again)
Every smile you fake
(for yourself, for myself, for ourselves)
Every claim you stake
(for I'm yours, now and forever)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
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