One of my favourite quotes, because it so easily captures just how I feel about so many things. Captain America is a supersoldier, he was a soldier in World War 2 who was given superhuman strength & agility, and is one of the most brilliant military tacticians. He has 1940’s values, and believes in good and evil. Things are very black and white to him.
But in this story, he gets a second lease of life in the twenty first century, and the black and white between good and evil has turned to grey. To make matters worse, earth is on the verge of an alien invasion that seeks to destroy all human life as we know it. For once, the things that make Captain America, one of the greatest superheros the good guys has seen, is at a loss.
He is completely impotent.
His mind, strength, agility and values do not come into play, when you’re trying to fight off a planet-sized threat. And that is the conundrum I face tonight.
I come home, read the news about Yong Vui Kong, who is on death row, yet his family is fighting every second of the day, to appeal for clemency from the president. They are not giving up despite the odds, overwhelmingly stacked against them. I read about the control our current government tries to impose on us, I read of a lot of disgruntled complaints about the world that we live in.
And I’ve stood up for a few causes, I’ve tried to be involved and make it my fight too. But the thorn in my side, is that we can never truly be the people who always stand up for justice, or what’s right. Sometimes we also just want to bury our faces in the sand, and pretend that the world’s great and all. I just got my paycheck, and I just blew $40 on Grand Theft Auto 4. I’m thinking of playing it as soon as it gets downloaded. I’m thinking of all the marketing I want to do for my band(s), and even how I’m going to reorganise my life in preparation for my new job in September.
It’s a constant struggle to tow the line, between what’s right for you, and what’s right for society. There are personal and public battles to be fought, and sometimes, I just don’t see the distinction anymore. It taxes me out emotionally more than anything else. It drains me to care. And yes, sometimes, I just feel so impotent.
So weak and powerless, that there are actually so little things I can change, with my two hands, mind, heart and soul. There is a limit, to how much of a fuck I can give. Sometimes I’m near the limit, sometimes I have too much to give.
I don’t have all the answers, but one thing’s for sure, something ain’t right with this world, and when you put your finger on it, it really is an evil too big to hit.
Hopefully bu Tuesday, the cast on my left arm can be taken off, and I can finally carry on with my life per normal. Be that the case, I reckon I’ll miss it somewhat. The conversations I get from random strangers, the way I clumsily try to get things done, or cover it with a plastic bag with each shower. If anything, it was the very strange experience of effectively having only one arm.
Not being able to physically do many things, meant that my mind went on overdrive, but was still paced with not being able to follow through with physical action, that resulted in more detailed thought processes that ensured economy of motion to maximise effectiveness.
It’s funny how it takes a disability to teach you that, step back, don’t immerse yourself in the trenches, and forget the campaign that needs fighting.
Why so militaristic?
I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way my brain draws connection to the concept of strife and obstacles. When I was in the army, that was probably the only time I had to rely on a fighting spirit to see me through certain exercises, that right now it’s just a reflex, conditioned response.
I’m a fighter, not a lover.
And so, I’m thinking about the two or three weeks of break time I will have before I finally start teaching (for real.) Yes, I really am going to be a teacher. I have a contract with the Ministry of Education to teach English and Social Studies. It’s finally happening, life is starting to happen again. While I’d been working for the past two months, it’s only been a short term arrangement, whereas this new arrangement, will be more long term, and I can start rebuilding my life and relationships around this new arrangement.
It’s going to be pretty exciting, I’ve never been more fired up about trying to juggle my bands, commitments and writing engagements all at once. I’ll have to choose carefully just where my time goes. But I think this time away from regular work, while tough in terms of surviving, or having a life (little cash flow), has really opened my eyes and broadened my horizons past my perceptions of my previous industry. I think I’m walking into this new chapter with a whole new set of priorities, and my only wish is that I can finish as well as when I started, hopefully for the better.
But yes, there are some new toys that I really want to purchase, that will allow me to pursue other aspects of my craft to a new level. This is a benefit of having direction I suppose. It focuses your thoughts, and channels your energy into a generator that actually converts it into a usable fuel.
And so with that, here’s to new chapters, new directions and constant surprises.
But very, very fulfilled. It’s been the craziest month and a half so far, and I think that things will finally slow down after next week before I start the next phase of my life.
What’s transpired?
- started part time work
- handling bookings for band
- broke my wrist
- saw a friend get married
- saw a friend off as he left for the states
- watched broken social scene
- got involved with the Youth Olympic Games
- wrote two blog posts that made its rounds
- one got a minister’s attention, and tonnes of haters ragging on me
- taping a segment with my band, for a TV programme. no idea what’s going on
And that’s just mid July to August.
My reservist deferment got resolved, so now I will start teaching in mid September.
But before that happens, I’ll have the party of parties, as one last hurrah. I just one to get pissed, dance till dawn to my favourite tunes, and favourite people, even the ones who make me awkward.
I’ve been typing in this space, it’s less pressurising than typing in the other blog, perhaps because there are less people reading. It’s a bit weird, on the one hand, as an extrovert, I thrive on the praise and energy of external sources, but in the same way, I’m being reflexive and afraid that I’ll never measure up, and the last thing I want to do is to over compensate.
But it’s been a good night. I went down to Home Club after work with @ambarvalia, @kosherjellyfish and @bioanarchism, to catch Lunarin play, but throughout the night, I kept meeting so many different people, it was hard to keep up with. Tat Yang, Roland, Jordan, Kevin, Charan, Willy, Edder, Dottie.. I feel a tad bad, because I didn’t really know where my attention was supposed to be focused.
There are a couple of things on my mind right now, but I know there’s nothing I can do to change anything by just thinking or worrying about it. I guess change will only come if I’m willing to do something about something.
So on that cryptic note, I will say goodnight, because having to work tomorrow and to earn a paycheck, is equally important.
I’m still in a cast, for another two weeks. I acquired a displaced hairline fracture along my radius three weeks ago playing football at my friend’s stag party, and was on a half cast for about three weeks. Just yesterday, I went back to the hospital hoping that I would be free of the cast, but alas, they put me back in a full cast this time round, for a period of two weeks.
But it’s not so bad. For starters, the full cast is way more comfortable than the half cast because it’s made of this interesting gel that hardens once it gets wet (and subsequently dries). It’s much lighter than those plaster casts, and my fingers have slightly more maneuverability, in fact, I can even still play bass with a few tricky finger positions. The only downsides are that I cannot rotate my wrists, and there’s a portion of the cast that blocks half my palm making it impossible for me to play chords, or my xbox.
But yeah.. another two weeks, and I’ll be free from this prison my left hand is in. It really does limit the things you can do, and even though you sort of get used to it, things are never really the same. It makes me think of how people adapt to the hurt they go through, and while it’s admirable that they go through life, I suppose it’s easy to forget that things are never really quite the same.
I suppose I will be a bit more empathetic after this injury heals, but for some, the battle scars are more obvious, and with way more impact.
Distillation is the process of purification. It calls for only the purest essence to be collected at the end of the process. It’s a tall order, but I wish that more things in life were distilled. Cut out the BS, say what you want to say, deal with the circumstances with a surgical precision that leaves only the smallest of scars.
But we’re not the pure entities we wished we were. Despite the maturity I’ve gained as a result of not always getting what I want, I don’t think I’ve developed a hard heart that doesn’t break when I can’t give you what you want. It hurts me that I will hurt people, simply for being the person I am, and the choices I make. It makes me irate that I cannot be all things to all people, that as much as I have the ability to love, I will always have the capacity to hurt as well.
And in that sense, the singular, distilled thought, is that I am still that much immature, if I still believe in happily ever afters.
A pregnant pause. This screen has been left blank for about three hours ever since I switched my laptop on, after a pretty long, but epic day.
I don’t know if it’s because I can’t find the words, or if it’s because my left arm is still in a cast, but for now, the words aren’t really flowing. But that’s always the problem isn’t it? Every time I live, and I come face to face with a blank canvas, I feel as if I’ve given my all, and still, yet this great, empty screen, demands more from me.
But the last few days have gone by in a blur for me. After sending Kairen off on Thursday, and I finally made it home at about midnight, I sat down to write a post commenting on some things that had been going on in Singapore’s music scene. I’m glad it’s been receiving traction. It feels to have written something that resonates with an audience you’ve been trying to reach out to. But it’s very draining, to either write at the level regularly, or to have the discipline to do it daily. But I suppose once my arm recovers, I’ll look at ways I can find an audience for Singularity Industries.
I suppose it also calls into question, how else I want to run my online assets. I’ve been thinking of starting another blog, one that isn’t so serious, but focuses more on my geeky tendencies, and actually e a repository of my version of cool. I already have a title and tag line for it, but I’ll keep it secret for now.. because I’m going to launch it soon. I just hope I can keep up.
And then there suddenly has been an influx of gigs for Leeson, so that’s a good thing, and Shelves will be recording pretty soon. Plus I’m entertaining thoughts of another musical project.. and school is starting in September.. so there are many things to look forward to. It’s almost like, the past ten months that I’d been quiet for, never happened. I got the rest I needed, and things are picking up again. God is good in that way. In some ways, I feel I’ve drawn closer to him, or rather he’s drawn closer to me, and there are certain stress fractures I see in our relationship, mainly because of my own doing.. but I suppose at the end of the day, I just want to do the right thing.
And so here I am, Sunday, at three in the morning still blogging, even after an epic Saturday. There was a lot of fun, I loved the company I was with, good people, good fun, good talks, good art, good music. days like these are pretty rare, when things work out, parking lots found, good food, absolute steals from the music shop.. let’s just take our respite when it comes.
And with that, I suppose I will fall asleep after reading some pages from a book I borrowed.
The one thing that has been on my mind for the past week or so, could be dangerous thought. But I just have to put it down in words, just so I know how ridiculous it sounds, or maybe there might be a grain of truth in what I want to say.
“Kill your dreams, kill them now before somebody gets hurt.”
Okay, how’s that for shock value? I say this in the capacity that.. I don’t particularly think that living your dreams will make you happy, from the inside out at least. Jadedness or weary debacle and throwing in the towel because I don’t always get what I want on my terms and timings? I don’t really know.. but the more I look at it from this particular angle, dreams and ambitions are rather selfish things, and people get hurt in the process of us trying to realise our own ambitions. Also, when we don’t hit the targets we’ve set for ourselves, those dreams get dashed, and we become disillusioned and discontent.
And where there is hurt, discontent and disfranchisement, there is sadness. There is something in unfulfilled dreams that make us struggle more than enjoy what’s in front of us at present.
On the surface, it sounds like I’m telling you to throw in the towel, to aim for nothing so that you can hit something. Accept your lot in life and settle. But if you really know me, there is nothing that makes me sadder, and angrier than when someone loses his of her passion for life and decides to settle.
It’s all abit convoluted I admit, saying something, but meaning the other. But this comes from some rather brash and careful examination and deconstruction of the notion of “dreams”. (Son, when you grow up, you can be whatever you want to be.)
I think there’s hope, and there’s false hope. I think there are notions of personal gratification and comfort that are unrealistic, or at worse, damaging to the world we live in and the relationships we keep. More intimately, we kill ourselves for a dream that stays a dream. I think modern thinking to a degree has made us our own gods, and that it is our right for things to go the way we want them to. Our entitlement, inheritance or what have you. Oh the selfishness of it all.
In the chase of dreams, perhaps a concept introduced to us as far back as the fairy tales of happily ever after, of the protagonist verses the antagonist, good triumphing over evil (or in a post modern context, perceived truths and evils.) But the reality of life just isn’t like the man-made constructs we have of the themes of hope, happiness and triumphs. It is not in our dreams that reality exists, but in our realities that dreams exist.
The concept of dreams has been held in such high regard, that it paints a flawed picture of the reality and struggle that curses us in this mortal realm. It’s two dimensional to put it bluntly. It is also self-serving, and perhaps ultimately self destructive when we keep thinking that the grass is greener on the other side.
So I’m not saying kill your dreams totally by throwing in the towel, quite literally. The atrophy of such behaviour would be the utter stagnation of passion as we know it. A life, not worth living. Quite the contrary, if you’re a fan of my radical (yet utterly inane) notion, is that re-examine what it is that lets you live out your life passionately. Chances are, you won’t find them in some constructed dream you’ve cobbled together from watching too much TV.
Face up to this reality, that life is a struggle, but it is still worth living for. And one of the very first steps is to count all your blessings. We have more than we realise, people, friends, pets, ideas, love, hate, loneliness.. and ultimately, some form of hope. This last part might have been a bit confusing, but it’s a concept rooted in duality. You can’t hate if you’ve never loved. You can’t feel loved if you’ve never been lonely or undeserving of it. You can’t feel rich if you’ve never been poor, you can’t feel healthy if you’ve never been sick. Count your blessings, work.. find solace and joy in the struggle. And one day, I promise you.. it will all end, this mortal curse and blessing all at once.
I decided to type in here, because I wanted to remember something, or how someone made me feel.
I met someone nice today, and even though nothing developed, I wanted to remember it, because it’s been awhile since I felt this forgotten, pleasant emotion.
That’s really the best I can do to describe the person and the emotion: pleasant, nice.
There’s no need for extreme superlatives, because I can’t extrapolate the future, nor did I go out of my way to impress said individual, it all happened like a casual conversation, she seemed down to earth and we didn’t really expect anything more, or anything less.
In case anyone (read: the two giraffes and three possums that read this blog) is wondering, she was not the “fascinatingly scary” girl mentioned in my tweets. –> here.
No. This was the simple, vanilla girl that took my blood sample and handled some of my administration when I went down to the clinic for a medical check up. Through casual conversation, she knows I’m going to start teaching in the near future, and I know she’s going to enroll in medical school later this year. Very plain things, but I’m a vanilla sorta guy, and it doesn’t get more vanilla than this. Okay, maybe going to med school’s sorta like having cookie dough in your vanilla ice-cream, but that’s it!
So there were no exchanging of numbers or anything, because, nice and pleasant as she was, I think she would be a little too young for the time being, or I’m not exactly back in the game myself (self-imposed exile since I have no work.) But I wanted to type this in here, because it was nice, to notice women again, or at least be attracted on that level.. y’know.. a tiny clue that your heart hasn’t completely turned to stone and that you still have some emotion left, plain as they may be.
It’s amazing how often I actually come into this blank space with nothing to say. It really is a blank slate, the title to this post probably won’t be thought off till something just randomly pops into my head closer to the end. Honestly, in this version of my blogging/writing style, there is very little thought that goes from brain to screen.
For example, my blogging platform (wordpress) just generated “353″ as my default permalink, of which I will definitely change, but I’m telling you that now to demonstrate just how much I am not thinking at the moment.
It’s nice to type in here without that sort of pressure.
I suspect I do not function well under pressure. I secretly am afraid, and pressurised if someone tells me that I write well, or do various things well. I usually just try to say thank you, and not let it get to my head. The moment I do, constant editing and a quest to write the perfect piece takes over, and I just get paralyzed. I’m the sort of person that flows, I react more than I plan.. it’s just the conditions I thrive in. These are not necessarily the skills that will make you a successful person, but you will find a richness in life that money doesn’t always buy. You see things that other people don’t see, you thrive on little quirks that make you raise an eyebrow, as you give a silent chuckle to yourself as you get the little inside joke that is inherent in all things life-related.
Today, while working on the video project, I guess I could finally articulate just what sort of creative person I am. I think I am a rather subtle person. Perhaps I would do better at a cinema-verite style of filmmaking where I just like things unfold in the frame. It’s a slower way of telling the story, but I think I like letting the audience unpack what they are consuming. Open to interpretation as they say. Leave a few visual markers here and there, light shifts in tone and pace.. nudges instead of signposts that lead you on. Where meaning is discovered rather than explained.
Perhaps I’m like that on a daily basis. As much as I’d like to know where I’m headed, I’m also very much intrigued by what is going to happen. Good things still surprise me, bad things are expected, but when you see something marvelous, it truly is a beautiful sensation. That’s why I’ve matured from just being a cynic, I’ve been lifted out from that pit that the earth is a cold dead place. I know that it is, but the wonderment comes from actually being alive, and being pleasantly surprised when life sometimes deals you a good hand.
In some sense, it’s perched on the old saying that you can choose how you want to feel. It’s true, in life you get dealt shitty hands, and you get dealt some stellar hands. But life isn’t figured out in a lifetime, as long as you are still open and you haven’t completely closed your heart, you just prepare yourself that much more should something good come along, or at least pass you by. When you close your heart, you close your eyes, and you only see what your brain’s been conditioned to think. It’s different from having an irritatingly sunny disposition, but an open outlook to both the beauty and darkness of the mortal coil.
As long as we’re still breathing, I’ll try to keep my heart and eyes open. If you blink, you might have just missed the spark that’s in all of us, in all created things.
I came down with a cold, cough and sore throat this morning, even though I’ve been nursing it for the past three days. I think it has something to do with being stuck in a stuffy room with zero ventilation for three days that ultimately caused me to fall ill.
I hate being ill. I cough like Armageddon, I sneeze in threes (that feels good), but oh my, I can’t taste or smell anything and I have to avoid cold drinks. Avoiding cold drinks in Singapore is like walking on railway tracks. It’s stupid.
And now, I think my medication is kicking in, and I’m starting to feel a tad drowsy.
Defeat is a terrible thing. It’s also not as instantaneous as we’d like to believe, as in, we believe we can pick ourselves up from it just like that, brush it off aside like a bad fall and just keep moving forward. I mean, seriously, we live in a generation that doesn’t look positively on people who bitch and moan after a spill.
The thing is, sometimes it’s not just defeat we carry with us as we pick ourselves up. More subversive than that, we carry the shadows of doubt and disappointment along our battered bodies, we don’t give ourselves enough time to heal, and we continue through life unchecked. Wait long enough, and it might incapacitate you, and you’d never have seen it coming, and so you fall down again, one time after the other, every time..
I don’t know, maybe it hit me today. The misery I carry inside me, just because I want to be strong, not just look strong, but because I want to be strong. It’s what I’ve always believed in. Do right by the people who love you, don’t be a burden, be independent, don’t hold grudges.. but in essence, be an island.
But it’s not easy, when you hold one level of standards, and people hold a different standard. One’s not more right than the other, but because of our differences, and our indifferences, one of us is still bound to get hurt. Usually that’s me, because I care, I empathise, and even when I want to be an island, I somehow always allow something to sneak in.. and like a bubble boy, you don’t want even the slightest speck of dirt to get onto you.
Call me pompous or self-righteous, because maybe that’s what it looks like. When people fail to meet the unnecessary standards I place upon myself, I get disappointed. Usually at myself, and really no fault of someone else, just me, and my impossible. But I guess I’m learning that life is dirty, life is messy, and it’s utterly random, utterly out of control, and there’s no stopping it.
No stopping the hurt, the grievances, misunderstandings and miscommunications. Our relationships are all flawed because we are all flawed. We don’t do the things we say, and we don’t say the things we do. We fumble our way all through life, sometimes hurting someone right or loving someone wrong, and yet, despite all the disappointments and defeats, we pick ourselves up, brush of the hurt and move on.
We have to move on, one step at a time, every time. Don’t stop, don’t stop till you’re dead. Do everything, but don’t stop.
Would you believe that I’ve had this text input window open for more than two hours? It’s not so much that I don’t know what to say, but more like “is there any reason why I should be typing in here tonight?”
Honestly, there is no good reason, I’m just wasting my time, listening to Tom Waits, and then I got distracted by Brand New. I might add a video I found of them recently, because it’s such a great rearrangement of their song, “Jesus Christ”.
But apart from that, I’m grappling with something that should really be inconsequential because it’s just me being a judgmental bastard, but I’m getting really tired of seeing all this PR and Social Media bullshite on my twitter and blog feeds. Of course I could just block or unfollow anyone whose content I found irritating, but it’s not the persons, it’s just the inane subject matter that I’ve moved past, but it still follows me around like bad B.O.
And then, it might also just be me, who’s just being a snarky jerk who’s not eating any pie now, and seeing other people eat pie. Let’s just call it petty jealousy.
But seriously, maybe I’ll be sorting my life out really soon, when I get that offer letter to teach. But that’s another adventure I’ll talk about another time.
Right now, I remember asking Jess where all the arty, funny, Christian girls were.. and it’s true, they’re all in Australia. I’m facing a drought in the dating scene, or if I ever had one in the first place. Given, I’ve kind of (d)evolved into this commitment phobic person, simply because I cannot get my house in order, and yet I hold on to a conservative value system that wants to believe in the right type of relationship, yet I’m attracted to off-beat girls who usually do not share similar values and beliefs as I do. And if I want to do the right thing, it’s not to lead anyone on right? Right… …
Ah Catharsis, you are my best friend. Consequence, you can take a ticket and I’ll see you when I’m done with all the other crap I gotta deal with first. But yeah.. hang in there, or maybe just go home.. you and I never really worked out.
Life is a funny thing, we all want the best out of it, but we don’t necessarily put in the effort. Instead, we sit back in our recliners and criticise the world around us. We’re very critical people. I’m very critical. It’s something I struggle with, and something I sometimes don’t mind lapsing into. There are moments of sarcastic brilliance, but there are also moments of when I’m just an uptight monkey that seems intent on killing the joy of people around me.
Call it jealousy or immaturity, but I really doubt I’m alone in this. When I’m miserable, I want the world to be miserable with me. I’m the centre of my own universe, how else should I feel when everybody else seems to be speeding by, leaving me in the dust?
But when you spell it out like that, it really just is envy isn’t it? There’s nothing to sugar coat when you spell it out. Black text on a white background, specks of truth on a blank canvas.
I’m really just putting some thoughts down because I haven’t done it in a long time. I’m also trying to finish reading this article about Lady Gaga, which I find rather fascinating, but I really want to write more. But I’m also afraid to speak freely, not because it’s less truthful, but the unfiltered mind can be rather hasty, and raw as it may be, may not fully represent the intent behind callous words. Think of it this way, most people have good intentions, but they end up screwing everything up.
Yeah, that’s why I watch what I say.
You know how it is sometimes that you feel like you’ve got all these great ideas, or great kinds of thinking, but no one seems to understand what you mean. Like, it makes no sense not because you don’t make sense, but rather, they just cannot seem to comprehend or see it from your point of view, because the experience is not shared. It’s miscommunication on such a fundamental level.
But perhaps we’re afraid to share because we’re afraid we’ll be judged. And we can understand that, because we always judge others. It’s a vicious cycle, and I don’t know if open debate will truly break the cyclical nature of our habits. Maybe my only hope is that, by not locking this up, someone might stumble on this and discuss it with me. Quite difficult, when there are fifty thousand other things clamouring for our attention.
But yes, sometimes I really have to turn Twitter or Facebook off because there’s just so much incessant noise on it sometimes. Life updates, opinions, freedom of speech, democracy. They’re all great things I’m sure, especially for those of us who update constantly. But sometimes it’s tiresome. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not their fault at all.. they have every right to, but it’s more on me. I’m the one who’s tired, and the one making the judgements, hence I’ll do the switching off and the walking away.
I think it’s important to switch off and walk away, gather your thoughts, recollect yourself, find your center of balance again. Well, if not you’ll just become another hater.
So, perhaps we all have this immense need to be special, to be appreciated for our thoughts and actions, leave some kind of footprint or proof that we exist. I don’t know.. is that what drives those of us who’ve chosen to put our lives on the net? Incidentally, is that what drives us to create? All just for a vain legacy? That we mattered.
It’s probably true to a degree. I’m sure like most good intentions, it’s not the central force behind the things that we do, but let’s be open that it might be part of the reason. That all human beings have some sense of jealous pride, that we want to end up on top, or better than our peers. We only have one another to compare to right? How else will we know that we mattered, and that we’re better than the lowest common denominator?
So what’s wrong with being the lowest common denominator? Well, I guess I’m open to the fact that some people mind, and some people don’t mind being the lowest common denominator. I guess that’s key to my intrinsic problem in trying to help / understand people, and that’s the fact that we’re all different. Our thinkings, motivations, inspirations, defeats.. when they all get jumbled up, I’m not too sure how we could call it as it is.
And so, in another bout of random connecting of my synapses, I find myself back where I started. The duality of life on this planet, how we fit in and out of society’s norms. Ah.. the grand paradox once again.
Is such a difficult thing to say, when there are so many different paths, so many choices, that you don’t really know what it is you want.
As I’m typing in here, I’m also trying to get a music review going, and the words aren’t flowing on that side. I am such a fractured mess of different things, of different creative pursuits, I don’t know if I’ll ever be put back together again.
That’s how I’m feeling right now, like I just want someone to pick up the pieces, and put me back together.
Well, with that out of the way, I shall attempt to write my music review again. Excuse me.
–
And just like that, I’m back. It took me about an hour to get a short review out. It’s a little different when it’s a little more forced, and you have to study the material a tad closer. Well, I just want to say for the record, that writing with a reason, is not easy. It’s easy to read, but that don’t mean it’s easy to write. Like it’s easy to get on a plane and fly to another country, but it isn’t easy to build or fly a damn plane. So anybody who thinks writers have an easy life, you can shuvit.
Oh why so much angst brian? Don’t mind me, this is where I get to say anything I want, keep those writing gears all greased up. It’ll probably happen now and then. See how effective disciplined writing can be? When I left this window to work on the review, I’m now back at this window and it’s absolutely easy to write gibberish.
Alas, I am no where closer to finding out what exactly it is that I want. I’d like to play guitar and sing the blues a whole lot more convincingly, but I’m stuck with having to practice. I don’t like practice, but sadly I’m no genius when it comes to music, and I’m only practicing a fraction of what I should be doing. So if you do the math, I suck.
Well, with that, goodnight. I have to be up in about five hours time, and it’s going to be a pretty long Sunday for me, starting at six in the morning.
