I've got a long work day ahead, which scientists have found to be 3 times shorter than a normal day yet goes by a rate that's 1.5 times slower than a mid-week dentist appointment, so naturally, I've sworn not to start it on the wrong foot. Allow me to properly procrastinate.
My friend is getting married later this week, and despite how much I loathe the institution of marriage and want to drag him out of it kicking and screaming for his own good while calling him barking mad, it's still making me go all whadabadabadoo for him. Although it's still a week off, I found myself obsessing about what I was going to wear, since my wardrobe consists mainly of makeshift fan merch and hand me downs that I embezzled from my dad, and it took four emergency messages to come to the conclusion that I need to go shopping. I'm rather clueless with girly things you see, and my first instinct was texting the groom who, unsurprisingly, was just as clueless about wardrobes as I was. It took a brief and very futile re-inactment of the opening scene to Narnia for me to realize I had to speak to a girl about this, so I texted three hoping to work out an average or a common denominator or whatever it is that makes girls' opinions legitimate. Hence, the shopping. I'm not excited about that part, although I am excited to see the look on my friend's face when he ties the knot, so it's worth the trip to the darkest pit of the hell that is the mall.
I spent the morning psychologically treating cuddly toys on a twisted German flash game online called paraplush, successfully cured three patients and was working through the mental knots of a particularly difficult stuffed penguin who made it personal by putting me on shock treatment twice when a power cut had me lose my progress and made me wanna positively cut a bitch. It's a sad game. Dumb humans, hurting things that can't fight back just because they can.
Speaking of which, I spent the evening with a friend last night, it was a night of shared head spaces, comfort zones and wonderful conversations, a much needed reprieve from all things fake and forced. I was too tired to keep up the conversation at many points, so maybe conversation isn't an accurate name for it. It was the first time I'd gone out since I got sick three weeks ago, but even then the stories - that's an accurate one-sided name for it - were interesting and unlike what people fart out and call conversation these days. There was another power cut, which brought this beauty to my attention:
It got me thinking, why are all neglected things beautiful? Is it because humans destroy everything they touch? A lot of optimists would interject and denounce the flagrant generalization I've made against their kind, so let me share a couple of other examples that'll prove the sample is unbiased before I get back to this.
Exhibit A: An architect friend of mine is basing her project on an old recreational park whose glory days date back to the 50s called the Merry Land. Now, it's not that safe to visit because it has more or less turned into a drug dealer's den, with most of the attractions in a state of disarray, breaking down for lack of maintenance. She's had a lot of trouble working there since it's a chore to go on your own and hope to leave the place with most of your possessions and your hymen intact, let alone with all of your blood supply - and, dare I say, organs - uncompromised. However, nature seems to have taken over, since no budget is spared for gardening, and now it looks like this:
Exhibit B: These shots are from a random corporate front garden that has seen better days. Albeit trampled and littered with its own refuse, this patch of shambles is artful chaos.
And last but not least, Exhibit C: I was waiting for the university shuttle bus one morning when
I came across this little miracle, a flower grew straight out the concrete. I don't know how this was physically possible, but it happened,and it was there for all who cared to see.
It's all around us, so let me make the connection for you the way it was subconsciously made for me. Is it possible that in choosing to care for things, humans ruin them? Funny creatures, humans are. But I digress.That accidental candelabra has more than meets the eye, you see. On the other side, where the picture doesn't cover, the glass of the bottle has been broken in by the heat, and is held together by the creeping mass of wax that built up over time. The candle, on the other hand, would break if you try to yank it out of the debris, and is held together by the bottleneck. Nature has a way of reaching equilibrium against crushing odds that humans still haven't learned, equilibrium that knows no compromise, as opposed to the ways of men. There are a couple of things to see for those who know how to look.
I was taken by this chaos and the two revelations it's given me, so I've decided to make my own little reminders. Recreating chaos beats the point, I admit, and they'll take time that I'm more willing to invest in inanimate objects than plants, that I can't keep alive if my life depended on it, or humans, that I can't understand if my life depended on it. This is my little project, they'll take a couple of months to turn into the their own unique shambles of neglect, but they're worth the wait.
There are two more little perks to this project, other than being a tangible notification for the revelations I had about human nature, that'll come in handy in days to come: The Baileys bottle was a gift from a friend who's made entirely of good things and had a little stunt that took a lot of effort and care to plan. The second is that these will put a smile on my face during the numerous power cuts to come as our governments struggles to be a government. Here's to the little things.
I watched How to train your Dragon recently, and it's by far the best animated movie I've seen in a while. It's got vikings, dragons, a message against violence and lots and lots of flying. It deserves a rant of its own but it won't do it justice to spoil it for other nerds, like myself, who need this custom bundle of happiness. Go watch it!
My friend is getting married later this week, and despite how much I loathe the institution of marriage and want to drag him out of it kicking and screaming for his own good while calling him barking mad, it's still making me go all whadabadabadoo for him. Although it's still a week off, I found myself obsessing about what I was going to wear, since my wardrobe consists mainly of makeshift fan merch and hand me downs that I embezzled from my dad, and it took four emergency messages to come to the conclusion that I need to go shopping. I'm rather clueless with girly things you see, and my first instinct was texting the groom who, unsurprisingly, was just as clueless about wardrobes as I was. It took a brief and very futile re-inactment of the opening scene to Narnia for me to realize I had to speak to a girl about this, so I texted three hoping to work out an average or a common denominator or whatever it is that makes girls' opinions legitimate. Hence, the shopping. I'm not excited about that part, although I am excited to see the look on my friend's face when he ties the knot, so it's worth the trip to the darkest pit of the hell that is the mall.
I spent the morning psychologically treating cuddly toys on a twisted German flash game online called paraplush, successfully cured three patients and was working through the mental knots of a particularly difficult stuffed penguin who made it personal by putting me on shock treatment twice when a power cut had me lose my progress and made me wanna positively cut a bitch. It's a sad game. Dumb humans, hurting things that can't fight back just because they can.
Speaking of which, I spent the evening with a friend last night, it was a night of shared head spaces, comfort zones and wonderful conversations, a much needed reprieve from all things fake and forced. I was too tired to keep up the conversation at many points, so maybe conversation isn't an accurate name for it. It was the first time I'd gone out since I got sick three weeks ago, but even then the stories - that's an accurate one-sided name for it - were interesting and unlike what people fart out and call conversation these days. There was another power cut, which brought this beauty to my attention:
It got me thinking, why are all neglected things beautiful? Is it because humans destroy everything they touch? A lot of optimists would interject and denounce the flagrant generalization I've made against their kind, so let me share a couple of other examples that'll prove the sample is unbiased before I get back to this.
Exhibit A: An architect friend of mine is basing her project on an old recreational park whose glory days date back to the 50s called the Merry Land. Now, it's not that safe to visit because it has more or less turned into a drug dealer's den, with most of the attractions in a state of disarray, breaking down for lack of maintenance. She's had a lot of trouble working there since it's a chore to go on your own and hope to leave the place with most of your possessions and your hymen intact, let alone with all of your blood supply - and, dare I say, organs - uncompromised. However, nature seems to have taken over, since no budget is spared for gardening, and now it looks like this:
Exhibit B: These shots are from a random corporate front garden that has seen better days. Albeit trampled and littered with its own refuse, this patch of shambles is artful chaos.
And last but not least, Exhibit C: I was waiting for the university shuttle bus one morning when
I came across this little miracle, a flower grew straight out the concrete. I don't know how this was physically possible, but it happened,and it was there for all who cared to see.
It's all around us, so let me make the connection for you the way it was subconsciously made for me. Is it possible that in choosing to care for things, humans ruin them? Funny creatures, humans are. But I digress.That accidental candelabra has more than meets the eye, you see. On the other side, where the picture doesn't cover, the glass of the bottle has been broken in by the heat, and is held together by the creeping mass of wax that built up over time. The candle, on the other hand, would break if you try to yank it out of the debris, and is held together by the bottleneck. Nature has a way of reaching equilibrium against crushing odds that humans still haven't learned, equilibrium that knows no compromise, as opposed to the ways of men. There are a couple of things to see for those who know how to look.
I was taken by this chaos and the two revelations it's given me, so I've decided to make my own little reminders. Recreating chaos beats the point, I admit, and they'll take time that I'm more willing to invest in inanimate objects than plants, that I can't keep alive if my life depended on it, or humans, that I can't understand if my life depended on it. This is my little project, they'll take a couple of months to turn into the their own unique shambles of neglect, but they're worth the wait.
There are two more little perks to this project, other than being a tangible notification for the revelations I had about human nature, that'll come in handy in days to come: The Baileys bottle was a gift from a friend who's made entirely of good things and had a little stunt that took a lot of effort and care to plan. The second is that these will put a smile on my face during the numerous power cuts to come as our governments struggles to be a government. Here's to the little things.
I watched How to train your Dragon recently, and it's by far the best animated movie I've seen in a while. It's got vikings, dragons, a message against violence and lots and lots of flying. It deserves a rant of its own but it won't do it justice to spoil it for other nerds, like myself, who need this custom bundle of happiness. Go watch it!
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