panacea

a break in my soppy posts.

Time for a good ol' dose of Terry Pratchett!

Customs inspection.
I don't think we have any.
I mean, we used to have a tradition of rolling hard-boiled eggs downhill on Soul Cake Tuesday, but--
What I mean is, do you have any beer, spirits, wines, liquors, hallucinogenic herbage, or books of a lewd or licentious nature?
No.
No?
No.
Sure?
Yes.
Would you like some?

I love the old guy.

i think it's all coming back easier now

WARNING: THIS POST IS SOPPY AND EMO. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.


My last post was about something that dates back to around seven years ago, but this one is only about three.

The same girl, that much older now - the same, yet different. She waits nervously to one side of the school hall, hoping fervently to be sorted into that class. She isn't paying much attention to anything or anyone around her save that teacher reading out the names. Damn you, hurry it up already!

Her name is called, at last. Ah, sweet relief. Walking over to join the line, she mentally berates her surname. Start with the letter T, why don't you? Put me at the back of every line, why don't you? But luck is in. Her being at the end of the line does her an immeasurable favour, and by the time the orientation is over, she leaves the hall with more than she had come in with.

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It doesn't seem to be slowing. Is that good or bad?

the adventitious resurfacing of such old memories...

WARNING: THIS POST IS SOPPY AND EMO. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK.


Seven years ago, I think it was. About there, anyway.

A short girl in a primary school uniform, standing outside a classroom. Slower even than usual in moving into the next class. Not exactly daydreaming, just being too bored to bother being in a hurry.

By the time she sauntered into class, her usual seat at the side had been taken. Damn. There weren't any more empty tables; she'd have to join someone's. But she didn't like joining other people...

Oh, damnit. The only choice she had was between this occupied table and that one, and that one over there. What a bummer. Resigned, she trudged up to the table at the very back of class.

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Something happened then. I'm not sure what, but something, anyway.
I often wonder what would've happened if that girl had chosen another table to join.
Life would've been so different, wouldn't it?
Strange how such small, seemingly inconsequential decisions can affect life like that.

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I find it amazing how the bulk of my little 'coterie' was made quite by accident. Hat. Hat. Hat. X)

to call it thought-provoking would be an understatement.

I've just finished The Twilight Watch, and it had a...satisfactory ending. Not happy, not exactly very sad either, but it kind of fit.
So at the core of all that intrigue and warring, it was all just about keeping things the way they were. Hmm. The trilogy was pretty good, all in all. :)

Now, on to the next book!
*crawls into bro's book cupboard*

boredom is the catalyst of soul-rot.

sez eet awll.

-.

- horror and doubt distract
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir
The Hell within him; for within him Hell
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
One step, no more than from himself, can fly
By change of place: now conscience wakes despair
That slumber'd, wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be -

- John Milton, Paradise Lost

(I have got to stop rereading my books, dagnabbit. Just because they're there - doesn't mean I gotta read them. Ugh.)

I've no wish to rule. Bloody nuisance if you're asking me.

the New Shelf fund

Ah, one of these moments again. When I want to blab about something, anything, but can't think of a suitable topic. Hmm. Darn.

Oh, I need a new shelf. I'm double-stacking three shelves full of books (narrow shelves, though - I don't have that many books, despite my wishes to the contrary) and I need the space, dammit. I've got about 50 books of varying thicknesses - not counting my manga and VIB shelf - lying on my room floor (sacrilegious, innit?), homeless for the time being since I've tipped them out of their rightful places. The horror. They deserve better than that...well, some of them, anyway.

So - I'm starting my New Shelf fund, a fund with the sole purpose of buying myself a new shelf. I'm thinking I'll get that shelf about...early next year? Yeah man :D

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*
*

Holy potatoes. Shawn's reading Master of the Game and he won't stop it! What have I done?! No no no no no no no no no no no no no!! Aack!!

"You bloody bastard."
"Exactly so. Run back to your room if you can't handle it."


Recognise that, Bostress? :)

kak padshiy angel

It tasted of fullness, of longing and wishful thinking and want, so that one bite left him empty.

If only priorities were as easily sorted as socks.
I wonder if it's normal to feel so out of it. I hope it blows over soon, because I am thoroughly sick of it. Grrr.

daydream or nightmare?

I dream of dogs and of wild beasts,
I dream that animals with eyes like lamps;
Bit into my wings high in the heavens,
And I crashed unwittingly, like a fallen angel...

I don't remember the fall, I only remember
The impact as I struck the cold stones;
How could I have flown so high and then
Tumbled down so cruelly, like a fallen angel?

-Nautilus Pompilius, Like A Fallen Angel

Is it too much to hope that my mind clears up soon?

Itchy fingers

Well, well...another colour change. I wonder why I can't just leave my blog alone.

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...anyhoo, I have a few rather strange things to mull over.

Numero uno:
Creating a wordless sequence of images depicting a barely-there storyline (because my scriptwriters have weekends too) isn't as easy as I'd hoped. Mario Oswald Puddington needs work. Lots of work.

Numero dos:
I never knew you could continue your dreams where they leave off. I mean, one week later and poof! - I'm back on that same night, and the events pick up right where I'd stopped the week before. How odd.

Numero tres:
Apparently it's possible to never call a friend (with whom you interact daily) by name. Who knew?? Oh, sure I refer to G-R-A-C-E by name when speaking to others. But she says I never call her that to her face. Really? I never noticed. Sorry, G.
(Oh, wait. I see. I think I get it. Whoops.)

Numero...uh, whatever it is...:
I'm not sure if anyone has realised that the word "random" is way, way too overused. I mean, sure, it's a great word that just radiates randomness, but surely there are synonyms? I've checked through my blog and I'm disgusted by the number of "random"s in here, so I'm gonna try my hardest not to use that word any more than is appropriate. Ha.

Numero I-have-no-idea-what-'five'-is:
I want to watch The Other Boleyn Girl, and I want to go see Mamma Mia!, so who's with me? :D

Numero same-goes-for-'six':
I am quite creamed for the upcoming exams. Hmm. Oh, whatever. Has anyone heard that wonderful song, I Can Walk On Water, I Can Fly? It's great. <(^^,)>

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Jonas Erik Altberg! Ha, what a dorky name. No wonder he got himself a pseudonym. X)

eehuu.