June 30th thursday 9.30 pm

My mind won't stop. Even on sleepy evenings, on and on. I listen to music sometimes I take it like a drug sometimes even that won't stop. Covered in blood and shaking slowly, because I'm tired of trying to fix myself trying to wipe the mess. It comes from inside you know? I might cut myself and find I'm wrong on the inside horrible sticky guts and blood it's a mess. The mess - Better try to put it back - IT'S NOT MINE! . I need to stop yelling need to stop myself I need to find him and watch him bleed.

- adam

29th June Wednesday 9.30 pm

He sat there, deafened. The machinations hummed and buzzed around him, the screeching rattle-clack, rattle-clack building to a devastating crescendo. "The derivative,' the lady said ' of x with respect to y..." Clockwork. It was all clockwork. He clenched his teeth with the strain of stopping it all. The gears were in motion, he would be crushed amidst the steady click goddamnit, my pencil click... click... there were tears on his hand crushed amid the gears- slowly, painfully, each bone taking its time to shred and break and all the while, he would stand there, winding, winding, winding, winding.

- adam

MOAN!

Rayner IS right! The more work I have, the more time I spend bitching about it here. Whee. The difference is that I think I've done it this time, even if my maths portfolio IS several weeks overdue and is starting to grow a thin civilisation of sentient mold. Work sucks.

- adam

26th June, 2005 Sunday 9.40 pm

Will I spend my life searching for a feeling? A little piece of this life, a tableau that I can stretch and twist into meaning? No, I say! Throw yourself into the deep end, only because the bottom is real. Why splash about in the shallows, creating ghosts and legends out of mist? Why should life cover me only to my ankles? No. I refuse to spend my time chasing currents while I slowly suffocate. The only reality is action - I move therefore I am. Breathe in the saltwater! We drown eventually. But I moved the ocean, not vice-versa.

June 21 2005 Tuesday 9.50 PM

I'm not profound at night. Maybe a little damp and a little groggy from dinner and pillows and lack of sleep. sitting about trying to be profound brings about the most abject depression. It is also futile. Sometimes I get up and wonder about God for awhile. Or jellyfish. Sometimes He speaks to me in the little noises. Sometimes I just hear things. Sometimes I sprawl about with dripping languor and dream about craters and tunnels of my childhood. That wonderful misty red air. I grip the blankets and am fitful for awhile. Lost in the dream of little stars...

- adam

hundreds

Participate in the 100 words project. (Link is to the left) I've gone and used this as an excuse to force myself to write, so here's my 100 words for the 25th of june. I never edit, hardly ever delete a sentence that's been written, and blatantly flounce all rules of proper grammar and sentence-structure.

25th june, 2005

On the other hand. When you aren't sleepy thoughts become precise. Point one. Point two. Sub-point one point three point seven-six-five-four-two-nine-eight. Short sentences punctuated by anxious punctuating punctuation. It says Lucidity! Clarity! The breath of day is dry and light. Only brighter. Difficult to recede into the mist because there is so little of it. Adjectives, bah. Verbs, bah. Condense! Words are king and queen (and the rest) and never, ever artifically lengthen by using phrases like 'never ever' or allow a little madness to get in the way of short concise writing.

-adam

So long and thanks for all the fish

I am the biggest hypocrite I know. Boys and girls, never, never, EVER post song lyrics on your blogs. At least not without some form of commentary. There's nothing worse than ripping off somebody else's badly-written lyrics to cover your own badly-written posts.
With that, here's the lyrics for so long and thanks for all the fish, OST for the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

So long and thanks for all the fish
So sad that it should come to this
We tried to warn you all but oh dear...

You may not share our intellect
Which might explain your disrespect
For all the natural wonders that grow (around you)

So long, so long, and thanks
for all the fish

The world's about to be destroyed
There's no point getting all annoyed
Lie back and let the planet dissolve (around you)

Despite those nets of tuna fleets
We thought that most of you were sweet
Especially tiny tots and your pregnant women

So long, so long, so long, so long, so long
So long, so long, so long, so long, so long

So long, so long, and thanks for all the fish

If I had just one last wish
I would like a tasty fish

If we could just change one thing
we would all have learnt to sing

Come one and all,
man and mammal,
side by side in life's great gene pool

So long, so long, so long, so long, so long
so long, so long, so long, so long, so long
so long, so long, and THANKS!
for all the fish.

adam

back and bigger.

Whee, I'm back from camp.
I'm back, and I'm still super-high from the success. It wasn't to be unexpected, and it's really a good thing. Sometimes I think happiness is so rare, so I grab at it. Still, i'm not going to feel great forever, things are going to go back to the repetitive humdrum, and I want to remember that I've changed more than a momentary happiness, and feeling good won't solve my struggles.

So I'm writing it here, so if I forget, you all can remind me.

adam

I will be

away for 6 days until sunday, 12th June. Have camps to go to.
don't flood my tagboard!

Cheers, all of you!

- adam

trixie

In honour of my piano teacher's cat, Trixie. It should be illegal to be this adorable.

The languor of a morning nap - she opened her eyes to slits, taking in the sleepy sunshine. The cat lay splayed out on the front porch, tawny limbs tangled amongst the nest of shoes and footwear on the ground. She yawned widely and stretched - extending first one leg, then another, her claws extending as if reaching for some invisible plaything - She seemed to take exquisite pleasure in the act. Then curling back to fiddle with someone's blue pair of slippers, she yawned again, her sides expanding to take in the warm air. It seemed the cat could lie there forever, in the splendid, languid glory of a greek goddess basking in the morning rays, her ears twitching in miniscule movements to the sounds of other people who couldn't appreciate the joys of a morning repose, the tickling of fur against the stone tiles, the music of some distant pianist, and, just standing there watching her, I wished I could too.

technological advancement.

Just went to the comp exhibition-fair-thing at singapore EXPO. (can't remember what it was - but there were a lot of people around selling electronic stuff.)

They happen a couple of times each year, and whenever I go to them I come back loaded with junk. Make no mistake - not junk I actually PAID for, but all sorts of cables, wires, peripherals, cards, brochures, pamphlets, business cards, hands-free sets, screen protectors, and occasionally curry puffs.

This is a rather alarming trend. Last year I came back with a dubiously-acquired desktop replacement computer. This time the free gadget is a mysterious bit of white plastic called an ipod shuffle. Now, this thing confounds me.

Why, I ask, is Apple, capable of fitting 20 gigabytes of memory into a space not much bigger than a deck of cards, unable to place a screen on this device? It's not like I haven't seen smaller devices with screens, because I certainly have. The makers of Digimon did it. Creative did it. It can't be that difficult, especially for a company like Apple. And I'm not even asking for the kind of screen that shows you the song name with all sorts of graphical bells and whistles: volume meters, play time, battery life, graphic equalizers. The ipod shuffle, which looks like a little white stick with a button on top, doesn't even feature a little counter to tell me which track I'm playing. Ten out of ten for style... minus several million for functionality.

Unfortunately, Apple decided to take a revolutionary step, backwards, and market this new screen-less concept. No doubt I am intrigued that at any time I'm completely unable to tell what track is coming up next, oftentimes what track i'm currently listening to, and what other tracks there are, save memorising the order in which I downloaded my mp3s to the ipod.

This is not to say, however, that the thing is completely useless. It isn't - it still features Apple's wonderful itunes technology, allowing seamless synchronisation and uploading of mp3s. It functions as a fairly large USB flash drive. It still features good sound-quality, and most of all it is absolutely tiny, making it extremely portable.
Also, it has this immensely cute LED button at the back which lights up green when you press it if the battery is charged. A major selling point, that.

I can't complain - I got it free. But I wonder if I might've been better off trading my old cd player for a casette walkman... which is five times the size, and only slightly less functional.

-adam

words!

Here's some words for you people to ponder. I just learnt them in the last few months.
1. Partisan. An enthusiastic supporter, or a large pole with an axe blade.
2. Verisimilitude. Similar to reality. adj. versimilitudinous.
3. Corollary. something that results from something else. e.g. 'violence is the inevitable corollary of such a revolutionary change..."
4. Droll. amusing, especially in an unusual way. Anne McCaffrey overuses this word.


Expand your vocabulary.

- adam :D