Another frustrated univeristy student..

Oh well it's a breezy saturday afternoon and I'm encaged in my lil' apt, buried under books and papers that refuse to seep into my thick skull.. argh! I do not understand the insitution of education, why do I need to be bogged down with outlandish theories that shall never be of any use to me? Seriously will some lame 30 year old's opinion about Lara Croft's implicit androgenous identity ever matter... But then again I understand the need to analyse (perhaps, over analyse) the most mundane, trivial things in life but I dun't go around writing academic essays and advocating them with psychoanalytical theories do I? I'm beggining to wonder if this course is for me.. I love the randomness, the triviality of the subjects, the fervour of the tutours but the assignments just don't do it.. I guess none ever will.. But anyways the middle aged geek made a rather compelling point about how virtual reality has advanced to a technological height and cultural status where the voyeuristic gaze between the virtual game and player is so intense it eradicates the players surrounding and lifts them right out of reality.. and in research for this notion, Ive spent the last 5 hours playing simgirls (http://www.ebaumsworld.com/simgame.shtml) Well still playing and its teaching me a whole lot of things that I shall keep for my next post.. some how I think there's alot more I'm going to learn ;)

Missing you

There's something about Rachel Yamagata on a rainy day, just two things missing: a glass of wine and...

From I'll find a way..

The rain is like an orchestra to me
Little gifts from above meant to say
Girl, you falling at his feet
Isn't lovely or stunning today
Wait with me, wait with me
I'm alive when you're here with me, here with me, stay

And I'll find a way to see you again
And I'll find a way to see you again

Introduction

This blog was created a long time ago but abandoned before I ever began posting and that statement basically sums me up. I have bursts of overwhelming positivity, pushing my imagination into overdrive in its concoction of the cause and events chain, the cause being a sporadic optimistic thought and chain of events spanning the next 60 years of my life. I'm hyperbolic like that but only in terms of visualizing for when it comes to action, I do nothing, literally. The centrality of my life is music and the words of others and their confessions, revelations, pondering... I find myself and the truth about life in them, all the while in the comfort of my living room. God forbid, I actually discover life on my own and have to exert myself *ech* I guess I only write when I'm depressed and in the throes of self-deprecation which currently is reaching an all time high. The superficiality and positivity will come, don't worry, the world glorifies my existence for my indefatigable optimism. If they only knew the extent of my delusions and my innate need to distort my reality to the extreme where nothing real gets under my skin, the rays of factuality deflect in my mental paradigm where nothing is left but fantasy. I am fantasy, my world is fantastical and right now, all I crave is reality.. *sigh* more unintelligible ramblings.. Clarity, wherefore art thou?

Addiction

Addiction to any sort of noun. Alcohol, cigarettes, attention, money, the reflexive myself or the possesion of him. The need throbbing in my veins of one or the other and most often all.
Needs and wants, who decides the borderline between the two?
This vague, transparent line at the end of the day, I am certain i get the necessary but the desires are they fulfilled? I need them to be fulfilled for this optimism to survive. Again they coincide, needs and wants. Can someone please enlighten me?
The dawn of light comes in the mostr bizzare of circumstances and disapper in a trice. I long for clarity. I need clarity. Revelation, realization I find myself locked in turmoil without it and addicted to things that render me hollow.
Fulfillemt, I am addicted to the very concept of it. Coherence remains a mystery.

Time..

Time. Concept or noun, factor or an element, it remains the pivot in this mystery called life. Unravelling the truth behind the fiction, the untangling of the most esoteric dilemmas, I wait patiently for this maestro to deal my cards or rather to deal with me.
Perhaps, these so-called problems are but a figment of my paranoia, a mental disorder that originated from an over-analytical mind. There lies the paradox of my existence: too many seconds at hand and I slowly succumb to a psychological disarray of the highest degree versus the back to back busy as an ant phases where I revel in the emptiness and monotony of a busy schedule, all the time wondering if this is indeed life as we call it.
Scepticism versus idleness, most favour the former but I remain still in doubt. I do not know if I am waiting for disaster to strike on a full-fledged scale which time appears to be inching towards to and thus why begin endeavours that cannot be seen through anyway or wait for it all to blow over. There it is again the most annoying, back stressing, head hurting word in the english language: waiting.
Waiting for what? For things beyond my control to decapitate the happy life I so dearly desire or for happiness to finally arrive? So many questions and all dependent on time.
I shall wait patiently with this incessant fear of what time shall unveil.