passive

i have this theory.
and people find it idiotic.
"what do iPods have to do with human emotion?
are you mental?"
i still think i have a point.

okay, so here's how it goes.
imagine yourself to be the owner of an iPod nano.
now your precious iPod nano..
it gets stolen.
by a kleptomaniac beggar girl, or schizophrenic taxi driver -
whoever.
you're heartbroken.
however, few months later, a generous relative calls you and says he/she is getting you a new iPod.
you're over the moon.
in the course of the wait for his/her arrival, somehow you begin imagining that you're getting the 30 gb video iPod.
relative arrives.
you're excited.
waiting for your brand new, bigger, better iPod.
and the relative pulls out...

the nano.

and, you're disappointed.
at first.
then you decide to be mature.
so you berate yourself for being an ungrateful wretch.
"there are so many unfortunate people in the world without iPods. you should be glad you have one."
and so you convince yourself and thus you're satisfied.
sigh.

now if you were offered and iPod nano and an 80 gb video, which would you pick?
it's obvious, isn't it?
why settle for satisfactory when you have a shot at being happy?

my theory makes sense. it does.
and yeah, okay, it's a thought process, can't be wrong or right.
but i can be right.

"You look at me, I look at you.
Neither of us know what to do."
lol.

Crumble

You
Me
Near
Far
Heaven
Hell
Whisper
Yell
Beam
Bawl
Stand
Crawl

How the mighty have fallen.
=)


The picture fades but the paint remains
Clinging to the air, like a frenzied blood lust.
A tune breaks; the air is pierced
By mirthless laughs and misery-less tears
A zephyr rushes in, carries you away
The picture fades more, why won’t you wait?
And with the fading pictures and breezeless gust…
Another one bites the dust.

Drive.

Reasons I am bitter, crabby and basically depraved at the moment:
Beggar girl who stole my phone and has thus rendered me music-less during travel.
You. YOU. I’m right HERE. What’s the matter with you?!
The weather. Mother Nature’s got rocks in her cranium, I tell you.
My wallet. Could it be anymore empty?
The English Premiere League. Gah.
The paparazzi. *brandishes knife*

Yes, yes. Joy to the world and all that jazz.

It just hit me that I haven’t written in a long time.
I mean, really written.
I thought I’d find plenty to inspire me into a literary frenzy what with Malhar beginning, Malhar ending, winning Malhar and… well, you know. Other stuff. >.<
But so it was not to be and that dreaded writer’s block refuses to loosen it’s chokehold around me.
Bleh.

In other news, my neighbour has returned. So, in case you were wondering have the 4 AM tuneless murder of some rock classics, the extremely enviable electronics and the skinny, Celine Dion-worshipping girlfriend who can make extremely questionable sounds, which for the most part make you wish you were dead – EVEN with the windows shut. My friends and well wishers, however, will be happy to know that her obsession with Paris Hilton’s music has visibly diminished. In fact, a saxophone rendition of Hotel California was almost well received. (“OhmyGAWD, isn’t that the totally HAWT Eagle’s song?” – spellings as per the pronunciation, of course.). So yea. Thank the stars for small mercies.

Yes, I see some of you staring around confused with the million dollar question at the tip of your tongue –
Hey, wasn’t she lesbian?
Well, yes. I thought she was too.
I guess they sorted it out.
Don’t ask me how.
[Dear neighbour,
If, in the unlikely event you read this, and are angry that anyone would post such private details of your life over the worldwide web – if you don’t know how to keep it down to a holler, you don’t deserve privacy!]

I was supposed to attend lectures today, considering my attendance record is very severely lacking - thanks to Malhar work, ill health and sheer laziness.
But once again, I weaseled myself out of it but making extremely persuasive arguments against the merits of attending. So once again, I remain with a precarious attendance record, and once more I resolve that tomorrow will be the day that I finally step into class again. To imbibe the pleasures of academia. To enrich my fertile, teenage mind.
To stay off the dreaded blacklist.
Such noble thoughts indeed.

Bah. It’s so hard not to be bitter and crabby with all these corrupt factors working against one.
Oh and now my idiotic memory has decided to refresh the fact that I have a French test tomorrow.
Woopdefuckingdoo.

I’m off. See you’ll later.
Have fun closing in on your miserable deaths.

>.<

[the only reason i named this post as i did is because i was listening to the song by incubus at the time and i'm too lazy to think of a title now]

Fusion.

12.28 am.

[I'm probably going to drive myself to whole new level of insanity soon.
Over something so outwardly foolish.
Gah.]

I don't want you to be a figment of my imagination.
Something else I built up in my head to crash and burn.

I can't think of an end.
I can't even think of the beginning.

I'm stuck somewhere in between reality and fantasy.
And I don't know which way to walk.
What if it's not solid ground?
What if I drown?
What if you do?

What if you drown in a chasm of my own futile expectations?

It looms over me like a soundless, still thundering sky.

What's real?
What's not?

Are they separate?

Do they come together in a mute fusion of sightless melody?

I don't want this to crash and burn.

Please don't be a fantastical figment of my own worthless imagination.


[Sigh. See what I mean?]

Ceaseless. =]

It’s 12.55 am, my blog refuses to open and so I type this out on MS Word.
God bless Bill Gates.
My body aches and every muscle in it is calling me out for mercy but as is tradition, I am going to blog about this.
Cause I’m writing on a high.
I’m writing on such a high.
I’m writing on the high of winning Malhar.

The last two days, and possibly the last 2 months were practically living hell.
But winning. Oh, man it so makes up for it.

Cuz like they said in Vanilla Sky – Without the bitter, baby, the sweet ain’t as sweet.

I’m too tired to be exuberant and yet not tired enough to stop being jubilant. I can’t get over the announcement, I can’t get over the lethargic, disappointed way we lay around at the prospect of losing and the ridiculously euphoric way we ran around hugging everyone in sight (Everyone who was there can stop smirking NOW) at the announcement of our victory. Our sweet, sweet and so well deserved victory.

I don’t know how to explain what I feel. How every single person in the Social and Dramatic Union feels.
‘Cause at the end of the day, we just won another college event, right?

But it is just so much more than that.

I think I’m going to just shut up now and leave it at this:

We kicked ass, people. We really kicked ass.

[How eloquent slang can be, no?]

:D

And also:

IN. YOUR. FACE.

*evil laugh destroys the moment*

How utterly predictable.


[May I just remind the feeble number of people who read this page that I was really really tired when I wrote this so please pardon the crappy writing. Its really not my best. *wince*]
Um, yeah. Bye.