I think it changes you. It might be cryptic. Maybe no one knows what I'm talking about, but thinking that nothing is going to change you and that you were gonna be true to yourself is too noble a thought even to the best among us.
She was just like any one of us with a perhaps extraordinary talent, or with a quality perfected by years of honing, and she was optimistic about her future. When her big break came she might have told herself yes this is it: time to show everyone who I am.
Without knowing she has now become what others want her to be.
Without knowing she will become the person she is pretending to be.
Before long she will forget herself and maybe fizzle out. Maybe fizzle a little. Like an opened can of coke left in the fridge for too long: you'd drink it if you were really thirsty.
---
And then there's blogging - a constant reminder of how I am constantly changing my perspectives. Each time I read a past entry I squirm wishing I never thought that way. How close-minded. How judgmental. How ignorant.
Knowing now that the future me might not agree with what I think is kind of a depressing thought. (But I am not the depressed kind, clearly. I am merely judgmental and very mortal.)
Which is why I can't keep up with keeping blogs. I probably have dozens of cyberspace footprints in blogs everywhere but they will never see the light of day again. It belonged to the me who has retreated into the cave of the past. ( Its not meant to sound so emo, walao. But I type it as I think it.)
Maybe I need to type faster to keep up with myself. Hahar.
And this is not emo. I won't do it! Its not in fashion anymore, right.
(Actually I just read these blogs that my sister asked me to. One belonging to a cousin aged "beyond her years" as Eugene O'Neill would say, and the other owned by one of her grammatically unsound acquaintance (I don't really wanna say friend, given the way she talks about her.) Makes me wish I were never young.)
MY weekend is coming.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Facebook Pet Peeves.
I admit. Facebook's kinda fun. I like going to see who broke up. Who got together. Who cam-whored. Really suits the busybody part of me. Gossip. Woohoo.
But the line has to be drawn SOMEWHERE.
Uploading all 134 photos you took in 5 minutes is PAINFUL TO MEEEEEE.
Writing notes and tagging me, well thank you for tagging me but I will end up writing a note telling people things I want them to know about me which I will eventually delete. Waste time.
It is one thing to publicise your make-and-break-up on Facebook, but its another thing to comment "Why!" and "What happened!" and "Nooooooooo.." when your friend(s) break up.
This is such a rant. I don't like rants. Hypocrite.
But the line has to be drawn SOMEWHERE.
Uploading all 134 photos you took in 5 minutes is PAINFUL TO MEEEEEE.
Writing notes and tagging me, well thank you for tagging me but I will end up writing a note telling people things I want them to know about me which I will eventually delete. Waste time.
It is one thing to publicise your make-and-break-up on Facebook, but its another thing to comment "Why!" and "What happened!" and "Nooooooooo.." when your friend(s) break up.
This is such a rant. I don't like rants. Hypocrite.
RealiT V.
2 nights ago I watched Money No Enough 2, and somehow the sadness of the old Mother, dying in hospital watching her children quarrel, comes through very easily, and everyone I know seems to have shed tears at that moment.
When I was confronted with a similar situation recently, I didn't seem to be very affected. An elderly relative of mine has refused treatment and no one seems to be able to talk her out of it. I'm not that close to her, I admit, but it puzzles me that a movie can evoke more sentiments in me than reality.
In fact, I seem to be more affected by that fact that I''m so unaffected.
When I was confronted with a similar situation recently, I didn't seem to be very affected. An elderly relative of mine has refused treatment and no one seems to be able to talk her out of it. I'm not that close to her, I admit, but it puzzles me that a movie can evoke more sentiments in me than reality.
In fact, I seem to be more affected by that fact that I''m so unaffected.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Mozzies.
Last night before I slept I was watching CSI, and I remember thinking to myself that after 9 seasons my loyalties still lie with them despite Grissom and Warrick not being there anymore. (Sara irritates me.)
While I slept I subconciously continued thinking about them.
It was in the near future and mosquitoes have evolved to be immune to all kinds of insect repellants and bug sprays or insecticides. We were unable to create new kinds of poison that was strong enough to kill mosquitoes from an aerosol can. Scientists believe the only way to kill them now is to make them ingest poison.
Because mozzies are now the biggest threat to mankind and diseases have decimated the human population, the CSI (Las Vegas) team decide to ally with a medical team (I shall post-scriptly add House MD's team) to try and rid the world of them.
By the way. Mozzies weren't what they look like now as they did in my dream. In mine they were really fat, and black with blood. They fly kind of slowly too. Like mozzies on marijuana.
The plan was this. To inject 15,000 animals like rabbits, rats, horses, cows, etc. with poison and they would be lined along a 1-kilometre stretch of desert-land and a small moat of slowly burning hot stones alongside to lure the mozzies with heat. The animals, numbed and paralysed with poison, would fall victim to the murderous mozzies in their final hours and take them out in a heroically last-ditch kamikaze mission that they never asked for.
This would be followed by a 1-kilometre radius of explosives to put the poor animals out of their misery: dying and itching to death, but not nearly dead.
The team was solemn as they made the last minute preparations out in the desert open. Everyone felt killing the animals were cruel, but knew it had to be done.
CSI Greg Sanders held a gray rabbit by the ears and asked "Are we even sure this is going to work?"
"It has to." CSI Nick Stokes replied.
"Someone has to try it first. I'll do it." CSI Sanders picked up the syringe with the poison and started rolling up his sleeves.
"Are you sure about this Greg?" CSI Stokes warned.
He injected the pale yellow poison into his arm and laughed quietly. He looked unsure and a little uncomfortable, but muttered, "Well you guys aren't gonna let me die, right?"
CSI Catherine Willows opened a jar with some mozzie samples and set one on Sanders. As the mozzie began its feast Greg began to feel the poison taking effect, and the last thing he saw and heard was Dr. Gregory House hobbling over, looked supremely exasperated, muttering, "You're an IDIOT."
When he wakes up it is 5 years later. Very Resident Evil, I know. 2 little girls pull him up and ask him to come along. They lead him into a lift. I think we are about to know the whole story behind the story.
My mother calls. She says Guess shorts are 24 USD, about 36 sing dollars, very cheap, and what size I would like.
I guess I will never find out about the mozzies, but at least I will have nice Guess shorts.
While I slept I subconciously continued thinking about them.
It was in the near future and mosquitoes have evolved to be immune to all kinds of insect repellants and bug sprays or insecticides. We were unable to create new kinds of poison that was strong enough to kill mosquitoes from an aerosol can. Scientists believe the only way to kill them now is to make them ingest poison.
Because mozzies are now the biggest threat to mankind and diseases have decimated the human population, the CSI (Las Vegas) team decide to ally with a medical team (I shall post-scriptly add House MD's team) to try and rid the world of them.
By the way. Mozzies weren't what they look like now as they did in my dream. In mine they were really fat, and black with blood. They fly kind of slowly too. Like mozzies on marijuana.
The plan was this. To inject 15,000 animals like rabbits, rats, horses, cows, etc. with poison and they would be lined along a 1-kilometre stretch of desert-land and a small moat of slowly burning hot stones alongside to lure the mozzies with heat. The animals, numbed and paralysed with poison, would fall victim to the murderous mozzies in their final hours and take them out in a heroically last-ditch kamikaze mission that they never asked for.
This would be followed by a 1-kilometre radius of explosives to put the poor animals out of their misery: dying and itching to death, but not nearly dead.
The team was solemn as they made the last minute preparations out in the desert open. Everyone felt killing the animals were cruel, but knew it had to be done.
CSI Greg Sanders held a gray rabbit by the ears and asked "Are we even sure this is going to work?"
"It has to." CSI Nick Stokes replied.
"Someone has to try it first. I'll do it." CSI Sanders picked up the syringe with the poison and started rolling up his sleeves.
"Are you sure about this Greg?" CSI Stokes warned.
He injected the pale yellow poison into his arm and laughed quietly. He looked unsure and a little uncomfortable, but muttered, "Well you guys aren't gonna let me die, right?"
CSI Catherine Willows opened a jar with some mozzie samples and set one on Sanders. As the mozzie began its feast Greg began to feel the poison taking effect, and the last thing he saw and heard was Dr. Gregory House hobbling over, looked supremely exasperated, muttering, "You're an IDIOT."
When he wakes up it is 5 years later. Very Resident Evil, I know. 2 little girls pull him up and ask him to come along. They lead him into a lift. I think we are about to know the whole story behind the story.
My mother calls. She says Guess shorts are 24 USD, about 36 sing dollars, very cheap, and what size I would like.
I guess I will never find out about the mozzies, but at least I will have nice Guess shorts.
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