these past few days have been spent in recollections. the little regrets and everything else. i so wish i could turn the clock back to 5 years ago...
all i wanna do is ride and ride and ride and ride, and not have to think. but as it happens, it's pouring outside.
+listening to: prince of spades by dispatch
Monday, October 25
| times past |  |
Thursday, October 21
Monday, October 18
| the last dispatch | |
watching the last dispatch just made me feel so much better, after the disappointment. i think i needed the escape , even if it was just for 80 minutes, though it seemed like a split second. the perspectives, and the optimism was what i needed to tell myself to get my shit together and move on. even if it was their last ever show, dispatch never showed any remorse, or regret. as i revisited their entire recorded discography, new meanings were gathered and motivations gained. i knew i needed something to lift these gloomy days, and the timing couldn't have been more perfect.
go now you're forgiven. go now you're forgiven...
+listening to: the general by dispatch
Friday, October 15
Thursday, October 14
| if i just let it go | |
will i feel better? sometimes i wish people would quit being so selfish and cherish what they already have. instead of being greedy and deprive others of even that slight chance at experiencing something more. maybe i'm just jealous.
into the night, the cool kids party on just outside these walls. the quiet one will always be the quiet one. people don't change. we just change the way we appear to other people.
+listening to: welcome to the cruel world by ben harper
Saturday, October 9
| quiet | |
when the night is no longer young, when things get quiet. what are we really thinking.
as hypocritical as it seems, i hate to see people around me cry. it's a stab straight to the heart, and the flashbacks of those helpless times just come pouring in. inundating the senses. it's not a position to be overlooked, because we are most vulnerable when we're feeling helpless, or hopeless. little gestures to show we care may eventually go a long way. i guess in some way everyone just need to know that someone actually gives a damn.
even so, seeing the sorrow deep within seemingly happy people irks me. it is the un-expectation that throws you off. for once i'm a spectator instead of the protagonist, but the pain is real all the same.
"it all looks fine to the naked eye, but it don't really happen that way at all..."
+listening to: naked eye by the who
Monday, October 4
| another sleepless night | |
this post has no sense of purpose, nor direction. i write this as i do with many things, as it has become almost second nature.
wat did i do this sunday. oh right, i was in bed, ignoring phone calls after phone calls from my dad. i think i must have forgotten about the hastily prearranged time for this weekly ritual. it must have been one of those one-sentence quick fire email exchanges. i felt a sense of rebellion with not picking up the call, i refused to pay any attention to the constant buzzing on my desk. somehow or other, by a pure stroke of luck, the device was on silent mode, for i don't know what i would have done to it. i refuse the answer the call, because sunday mornings are for sleeping in.
the better part of the morning was spent with matthew. matthew b. crawford, whose book i've been faithfully reading for the past week or so. progress is painfully slow because i could only seem to manage a few pages at a time in one sitting. i wish i could have just blocked out a whole chunk of my time and devote it to reading. it has sort of become a favorite of late because matthew always seem to present his arguments in the most compelling of fashions. there's no romanticism or horseshit, but rather earnest opinions which the reader may or may not agree upon. but that is perfectly ok because matthew is an awesome guy and he wouldn't give a shit about what you thought or said.
laziness has also finally gotten the better of me on this fateful sunday. the pristine unopened bottle of john (some of you may know him as jack, but he's john to me) daniels in my room that i've been saving has been officially defiled, molested, opened, whatever you wanna call it. it was just too much of a hassle to walk into the kitchen to pour myself a sip from the big bottle. yes i am that lazy and no i'm not an alcoholic.
with neither good news or bad news to comtemplate over, the looming exams seem to be the only dark cloud on the foreseeable horizon. a source of discomfort to say the least, which is why i'm still slugging practice problems at this hour. which is also why i'm writing this post because the most interesting thing i have to report is perhaps that i've just spilled some whiskey on my pants and now i positively smell like a homeless drunk. i cursed at myself as i tried to clean up the spill with a dab of water. then i cursed again because now the wet patch is twice the size of the original. how intelligent. this sudden commotion caught me by surprise, commotion over solitude is probably the equation of my life at this very moment.
so i thought, what would matthew have done? he probably would have smiled and poured himself another drink. i'm too lazy to do that. so i tuck matthew into bed like i do every night, except tonight i won't be joining him, in bed. as you could probably sense, i flaunt my homo side with his help. i even gave him a little wink as i turned around and carried on what i was doing before...
+listening to: nothing
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
