After lying cold for ever so long, today the furnace is being heated up again. I don't know whether it will ever reach full temperature again but I guess it doesn't matter all that much.
It's been an interesting summer to say the least. Figured a lot out and found even more that confuses me completely. Shall I sum it all up with a line from a song?
"Everybody's changing
And I don't feel the same" -Keane
It's not necessarily a bad thing. I know it sounds like a depressing sort of situation but it isn't. It's enlightening, almost to the point of being cheerful.
Shall I tell you why?
“We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started... and know the place for the first time.” -T. S. Eliot
T. S. Eliot hit the nail right on the head with that one boss! So, things change all the time and more often than not, we grumble and act like sunbathing crocodiles who get robbed of their sunlight. We search for comfort, happiness, fun, peace, love, success or sometimes just search without even knowing what we're looking for. But some day, we arrive back at an old and familiar situation and truly understand the mysterious ways of the world. Yeah, I realise this post won't make sense to the random reader but I'm sorry, I guess it isn't supposed to. This one's a personal sort of post. It's some stuff I had to say and it doesn't have to make sense. If it does, great! We're in this together.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
If I wore a mood ring, it would turn red and then explode
Patch Adams: [Patch addresses God while he stands on a cliff, contemplating suicide]
"So what now, huh? What do you want from me? Yea, I could do it. We both know you wouldn't stop me. So answer me, please. Tell me what you're doing. Okay, let's look at the logic. You create man. Man suffers enormous amounts of pain. Man dies. Maybe you should have had just a few more brainstorming sessions prior to creation. You rested on the seventh day, maybe you should have spent that day on compassion."
What do you do when you're simply boiling over with rage and you have no idea why? You're seeing RED and I mean ruby bloody red. But why? What pissed you off so much?
Hmm...let's see now... could it be because the world is a messed up place and romantic idiots that human beings are, we like it that way? We define our reality by the amount of pain in it and then feel oh so accomplished because life has "taught" us so much and given us so much to whine and bitch about.
Or could it be because your entire life increasingly seems more and more ridiculously meaningless. What you thought were your happiest memories now seem fake and hollow and make you want to throw up all over yourself.
Oh no wait, maybe it's just that you feel like a frikkin alien on this beautiful planet of ours. You have no idea how to connect with people and the things that matter to them. And you have no interest in 99% of all worldly matters.
Then again you might be pissed off because you're loosing your religion, your beliefs, the basic ideas about life that formed the backbone of everything you did and how you lived your life. Suddenly you're thinking that life might not be so full of hope and passion after all. Maybe it actually IS just one short, pointless stab of pain before its all over.
What do you do when you're so terribly angry that you feel like you'll never find peace? Ever.
Or maybe you're just angry because the truth is, you're not angry at all. You're not anything. You don't give a rat's ass about the world, its problems or its people. You can't get yourself to care about anything at all. You've been consumed by the worst of all diseases -indifference. And more than anything else, you're angry at yourself for that.
Yeah, I know, I have anger issues.
"So what now, huh? What do you want from me? Yea, I could do it. We both know you wouldn't stop me. So answer me, please. Tell me what you're doing. Okay, let's look at the logic. You create man. Man suffers enormous amounts of pain. Man dies. Maybe you should have had just a few more brainstorming sessions prior to creation. You rested on the seventh day, maybe you should have spent that day on compassion."
What do you do when you're simply boiling over with rage and you have no idea why? You're seeing RED and I mean ruby bloody red. But why? What pissed you off so much?
Hmm...let's see now... could it be because the world is a messed up place and romantic idiots that human beings are, we like it that way? We define our reality by the amount of pain in it and then feel oh so accomplished because life has "taught" us so much and given us so much to whine and bitch about.
Or could it be because your entire life increasingly seems more and more ridiculously meaningless. What you thought were your happiest memories now seem fake and hollow and make you want to throw up all over yourself.
Oh no wait, maybe it's just that you feel like a frikkin alien on this beautiful planet of ours. You have no idea how to connect with people and the things that matter to them. And you have no interest in 99% of all worldly matters.
Then again you might be pissed off because you're loosing your religion, your beliefs, the basic ideas about life that formed the backbone of everything you did and how you lived your life. Suddenly you're thinking that life might not be so full of hope and passion after all. Maybe it actually IS just one short, pointless stab of pain before its all over.
What do you do when you're so terribly angry that you feel like you'll never find peace? Ever.
Or maybe you're just angry because the truth is, you're not angry at all. You're not anything. You don't give a rat's ass about the world, its problems or its people. You can't get yourself to care about anything at all. You've been consumed by the worst of all diseases -indifference. And more than anything else, you're angry at yourself for that.
Yeah, I know, I have anger issues.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Bird Spy Project Report -Here's the dirt
[For those of you who don't know what the Bird Spy project is, kindly refer to my previous post.]
Yeah, so the whole daily project report thing didn't happen. There just wasn't that much to write about. Twitter was painfully boring! If I thought that there was even the slightest chance that twitter would seduce me, I was so wrong. So, here is my first and final Bird Spy project report.
I joined twitter and started "following" about 72 people that twitter recommended I follow. By the end of Day 1, I had about 8 followers of my own. First of all, what is this following stuff all about? It seems as though twitter is the biggest endorser of stalking in the world. I follow you, you follow someone else, they follow me... we all go around in circles. What fun.
So anyway, my Twitter home page started to show me random rubbish from 72 different people. Taking my cue from them, I started to post random rubbish of my own. It was like a whole world of people talking to themselves. There was this class of the twitter elite who posted stuff almost every 5 minutes or so. Even for the sake of research, I could never get myself to join that particular class. I could barely update my profile every hour or so and even that was only because I was trying so hard.
What would you possible tweet about, if you spend so much of your time tweeting? Shouldn't you maybe get your butt away from the computer and actually do something worth tweeting about? Otherwise wouldn't your Twitter profile eventually end up looking something like this:
Birdbrain @ 9:30 pm Had a burger and fries for dinner
Birdbrain @ 9:32 pm Twittered about my dinner
Birdbrain @ 9:34 pm Twittered about twittering about my dinner
Birdbrain @ 9:36 pm Wondering what to twitter about next
Birdbrain @ 9:38 pm Twittered about wondering what to twitter
Birdbrain @ 9:40 pm Twitter rocks. Whoopie bloody doo.
It's madness. Pure unadulterated madness. These people need nirvana from the cycle of twittering and thinking about twittering. There really is more to life. Seriously!
So, on this happy note, I declare the Bird Spy Project closed.
In the end, joining Twitter is a personal choice. It just isn't for me or for people like me, that's all.
RIP Twitter
Yeah, so the whole daily project report thing didn't happen. There just wasn't that much to write about. Twitter was painfully boring! If I thought that there was even the slightest chance that twitter would seduce me, I was so wrong. So, here is my first and final Bird Spy project report.
I joined twitter and started "following" about 72 people that twitter recommended I follow. By the end of Day 1, I had about 8 followers of my own. First of all, what is this following stuff all about? It seems as though twitter is the biggest endorser of stalking in the world. I follow you, you follow someone else, they follow me... we all go around in circles. What fun.
So anyway, my Twitter home page started to show me random rubbish from 72 different people. Taking my cue from them, I started to post random rubbish of my own. It was like a whole world of people talking to themselves. There was this class of the twitter elite who posted stuff almost every 5 minutes or so. Even for the sake of research, I could never get myself to join that particular class. I could barely update my profile every hour or so and even that was only because I was trying so hard.
What would you possible tweet about, if you spend so much of your time tweeting? Shouldn't you maybe get your butt away from the computer and actually do something worth tweeting about? Otherwise wouldn't your Twitter profile eventually end up looking something like this:
Birdbrain @ 9:30 pm Had a burger and fries for dinner
Birdbrain @ 9:32 pm Twittered about my dinner
Birdbrain @ 9:34 pm Twittered about twittering about my dinner
Birdbrain @ 9:36 pm Wondering what to twitter about next
Birdbrain @ 9:38 pm Twittered about wondering what to twitter
Birdbrain @ 9:40 pm Twitter rocks. Whoopie bloody doo.
It's madness. Pure unadulterated madness. These people need nirvana from the cycle of twittering and thinking about twittering. There really is more to life. Seriously!
So, on this happy note, I declare the Bird Spy Project closed.
In the end, joining Twitter is a personal choice. It just isn't for me or for people like me, that's all.
RIP Twitter
Friday, February 27, 2009
The BirdSpy Project
So I don't know what it is that makes me hate twitter with such vengeance. Twitter and its twitterers, twitterheads, tweeters, birdbrains or whatever the hell they call themselves should be mashed and baked into cookies.
What is the meaning of posting every detail of every second of your life on the Net? What is this -The Matrix? It all just seems like some conspiracy to me. Somebody somewhere can keep track of everything that you and everybody else on twitter are doing. That somebody can access this insanely personal information that would otherwise cost him a fortune to collect. And the best part of it all is that the victims are parting with that information out of their own free will and with the greatest enthusiasm. What diabolic extent of brain-washing is this?
What is the meaning of posting every detail of every second of your life on the Net? What is this -The Matrix? It all just seems like some conspiracy to me. Somebody somewhere can keep track of everything that you and everybody else on twitter are doing. That somebody can access this insanely personal information that would otherwise cost him a fortune to collect. And the best part of it all is that the victims are parting with that information out of their own free will and with the greatest enthusiasm. What diabolic extent of brain-washing is this?
With the continuing growth of twitter, nothing and nobody is safe. Twitteroos are everywhere and they're clicking photos of you, observing your actions and everybody else's, and naturally dumping all that info on their mothership. Not only are they bent on violating their own privacy in the most anal way but they won't let anyone else maintain theirs either. Big Brother is watching us all now.
Here's a universal question going out to all twittermonkeys. Why is it such a big deal if you have a trillion gazillion followers on twitter? Does it makes you feel special that a bunch of random people with lives as equally insignificant as yours claim to be interested in what you do with your damn self every day? Does it fill your little heart with joy when some celebrity adds himself to your followers list after you beg and plead with him to do just that?
Open your eyes and look around for crying out loud. The people who post updates on twitter every 5 minutes cannot possibly have real lives because obviously they spend too much time thinking of stuff to put on twitter or actually doing the putting.
And don't even bother contradicting me by bringing to my attention the glowing advantages of twitter because I don't care. Don't tell me how twitter helps you stay connected with your hoards of pseudo friends. Don't tell me that twitter is the physical embodiment of the theoretical collective conscience. I'll laugh in your face. If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. If you want to give it anyway because then you'll feel like an important person with something to say...take my advice, join twitter bitch!
I'm sure twitter has it's good points but the evil in it completely outweighs the good, I say.
Oh, more than once have I faced peer pressure to join twitter myself. I have strongly resisted such attacks every time. But now, laying aside all caution, I have decided to venture into enemy territory in order to better understand and so better fight my nemesis.
I hereby launch *drum rolls* ... "The BirdSpy Project"!
I am going to join twitter. For 5 whole days, I will devote myself to the world of twitter. I will be the twitterest twitterer in all of Birdland. I will take careful notes of everything I see, good or bad. Once and for all, the question of "to tweet or not to tweet" shall be answered.
Pray for me, folks. And stick around for my daily project reports!
I do this at the risk of fatal danger to myself. I might be brain-washed too. They might get me. But if they do, I urge those of you who care to carry on this war without me. Never give up on the cause. Down with Twitter! Let the games begin.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Thought for the day
Myth: we have to save the earth. Frankly, the earth doesn't need to be saved. Nature doesn't give a hoot if human beings are here or not. The planet has survived cataclysmic and catastrophic changes for millions upon millions of years. Over that time, it is widely believed, 99 percent of all species have come and gone while the planet has remained. Saving the environment is really about saving our environment - making it safe for ourselves, our children, and the world as we know it. If more people saw the issue as one of saving themselves, we would probably see increased motivation and commitment to actually do so.
-Robert M. Lilienfeld, management consultant and author (b. 1953) and William L. Rathje, archaeologist and author (b. 1945)
Brilliantly put, no?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
This one's real deep...
Lists lists lists!
I love lists. There's something so crisp, airy and endearingly pompous about them.
Every time I attempt to cram my prancing, meandering thoughts into the segregated straight-jackets of points, I feel a sense of purpose. Like I've joined the army or something.
I'm sorry, am I coming off as surreptitiously sarcastic? Oh, don't get me wrong then. I love them lists. To-do list, book list, movie list, stationary list, checklist, blog list... they're as diverse as the insects in the Amazon (forest, not river or website obviously).
Making lists can almost be like decorating your room or garnishing a salad. So many ways to organise them! Say with me! Alphabetical! Random! Subject-wise! CHRONOLOGICAL!!
Almost sounds like a war cry doesn't it? In a way, my dears, it is.
I love how lists so conveniently cut through the crap and get right to the heart of all the tomfoolery.
For example, if you're still wondering why I bothered writing this particular post, let's seek our solution through that most noble of tools -the list.
Let's make a list of words that best bring out the essence of this deeply symbolic post:
- utter
- bloody
- rubbish
See what I mean? They're invaluable. The above list clearly indicates the following conclusions:
- the writer of this blog is an eccentric oddity
- who had a lot of useless time on her hands
- simultaneously, there was nothing good on TV
I sure do love them lists. Oh yes sir, I do.
I love lists. There's something so crisp, airy and endearingly pompous about them.
Every time I attempt to cram my prancing, meandering thoughts into the segregated straight-jackets of points, I feel a sense of purpose. Like I've joined the army or something.
I'm sorry, am I coming off as surreptitiously sarcastic? Oh, don't get me wrong then. I love them lists. To-do list, book list, movie list, stationary list, checklist, blog list... they're as diverse as the insects in the Amazon (forest, not river or website obviously).
Making lists can almost be like decorating your room or garnishing a salad. So many ways to organise them! Say with me! Alphabetical! Random! Subject-wise! CHRONOLOGICAL!!
Almost sounds like a war cry doesn't it? In a way, my dears, it is.
I love how lists so conveniently cut through the crap and get right to the heart of all the tomfoolery.
For example, if you're still wondering why I bothered writing this particular post, let's seek our solution through that most noble of tools -the list.
Let's make a list of words that best bring out the essence of this deeply symbolic post:
- utter
- bloody
- rubbish
See what I mean? They're invaluable. The above list clearly indicates the following conclusions:
- the writer of this blog is an eccentric oddity
- who had a lot of useless time on her hands
- simultaneously, there was nothing good on TV
I sure do love them lists. Oh yes sir, I do.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Caught in the rye
Incredibly interesting monologue here by Will Smith from the movie, 'Six degrees of separation'.
Ever since I saw this little snippet on TV, I was pretty much twisting arms and wringing ears in a desperate attempt to try and get hold of the book, 'Catcher in the rye' by J D Salinger. I just had to read it, and now I am :)
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