Obligatory Year End Post

Right. I feel like I have to do an obligatory end-of-the-year post. And it's possible that there won't be many of these to come, seeing as the world is set to end on 2012.

I read somewhere once that if you want something done, give the job to a busy person. I am inclined to agree. I'm writing this with a 25 minute deadline. I have a bus to catch.

Sooo, 2010. What have I got to say about you?

Well, to be quite frank, 2010... you were rather shite.

You started off on a high note. I spent your welcome feast surrounded by good friends and music and a certain liquid that in excessive amounts might cause damage to one's liver. It was grand.

Then I started getting my fair share of disappointments; nothing new there. And then you gave me a large dose of drama which unleashed a whole slew of changes. I didn't mind; I was glad for the change.

And then school ended. Among other things, I learned that I possess cajones that most people would give their right arms for. Cheers to ballsiness!

Summer rolled in, and admittedly it was one of the finest summers I've had in a good while. Once again surrounded by good friends and music and that liquid that in excessive amounts might off your liver. Once again, things were grand.

And then a whole new drama began.

To be really honest though, I don't mind. I still don't mind. Everything that has happened has provided me with a lot of good material that I might use in a book one day. I'm a storyteller by nature, so I'm happy to have something to share for the next night round the fireplace.

Sure, my heart was broken twice this year. It hadn't even had time to recover from the first one before I bravely marched on to the second (mis)adventure. I don't regret any of it. Never has the words of Nietzsche rang truer for me than this year;

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

But of course, Nietzsche never had half his body chewed off by a shark. But I digress...

While we're talking about words that rang true - an old latin saying proved true for me as well;

Quod me nutrit me destruit

I love to think. I advocate thinking before acting on things. But damn it if thinking won't drain the life out of you.

So yeah. Heart broken. I'm fine with that. Like I said, at least I've got a couple of stories out of it.

But...

The one thing I cannot seem to let go of... the one thing that's making it extremely hard for me to let go...

This year, I experienced the bitter taste of disillusionment.

I'm not that naive. I've known for a long time now that things are never the way they seem, that people will let you down, that disappointments will come no matter what. The world is not a bad place, no. But it's not a completely good place either. People die, people kill, people walk out on other people, and Mother Nature will occasionally produce things to fuck everyone over. Like the platypus.

But knowing is different from experiencing something again and again. Knowing that there is a well over there and that it contains water is different from being bound and dunk head first down said well and its water.

Disillusionment is an ugly thing. It's an awful feeling, finding out that the flaws you accepted in a person were all real and true, while the good qualities that you embraced and used to cover up the flaws were all lies.

Some people don't know where the fuck they're going, what they're doing or why.

Maybe it's not your fault, 2010. Maybe you just had the miserable luck to have all these things happen on your watch.

I learned a whole lot of things from you, 2010. But I won't be sad to see you go.

Now I have to go, my bus will be here soon.

Words of Comfort: Part II

Because the road to recovery is long and filled with ups and downs... pretty much like a rollercoaster ride. Except that here, when people scream, they don't do so because they're thrilled.

(I promise I'll stop being emo soon.)

Apologize

I'm holding on your rope

Got me ten feet off the ground

I'm hearing what you say but I just can't make a sound

You tell me that you need me

Then you go and cut me down, but wait...

You tell me that you're sorry

Didn't think I'd turn around and say that;

It's too late to apologize.

It's too late...

I said it's too late to apologize.

It's too late...

I'd take another chance, take a fall; take a shot for you

And I need you like a heart needs a beat

But it's nothing new...

I loved you with a fire red; now it's turning blue

And you say "sorry" like the angel heaven let me think was you

But I'm afraid -

It's too late to apologize.

It's too late...

I said it's too late to apologize.

It's too late...

It's too late to apologize

It's too late

I said it's too late to apologize

It's too late

I said it's too late to apologize

I said it's too late to apologize

I'm holding on your rope

Got me ten feet off the ground

It's As If This Movie Was Made For Me

[Watch me needlessly project myself on fictional characters.]

This is an accurate depiction of how I feel right now.

Look at them. Both with broken hearts; aching... hurting... both knowing that there can be no turning back.

I feel for them both.

Words of Comfort: Part I

(aka: Sadly, This Realization Will Never Hit A Certain Someone)

She invited me. She didn't know if she should. She was trying to figure out if I really have changed or... if I’m still the same old S.O.B. I've always been.

But she always gave me a chance.

832 chances.

And I used up every one of them.

832's her limit. Make a note.

- Gregory House (House MD, S06E08 'Ignorance is Bliss')

Over You

Now that it's all said and done

I can't believe you were the one

To build me up and tear me down

Like an old abandoned house

What you said when you left

Just left me cold and out of breath

I fell too far, was in way too deep

Guess I let you get the best of me

Well I never saw it coming

I should've started running a long, long time ago

And I never thought I'd doubt you

I'm better off without you

More than you, more than you know

I'm slowly getting closure

I guess it's really over

I'm finally getting better

Now I'm picking up the pieces

Spending all of these years putting my heart back together

The day I thought I'd never get through...

I got over you.

You took a hammer to these walls

Dragged the memories down the halls

Packed your bags and walked away

There was nothing I could say

And when you slammed the front door shut

A lot of others opened up

So did my eyes so I could see that you never were the best for me

Well I never saw it coming

I should've started running a long, long time ago

And I never thought I'd doubt you

I'm better off without you

More than you, more than you know

I'm slowly getting closure

I guess it's really over

I'm finally getting better

Now I'm picking up the pieces

Spending all of these years putting my heart back together

The day I thought I'd never get through...

I got over you.

Well, I never saw it coming

I should've started running a long, long time ago

And I never thought I'd doubt you

I'm better off without you

More than you, more than you know

Well, I never saw it coming

I should've started running a long, long time ago

And I never thought I'd doubt you

I'm better off without you

More than you, more than you know

I'm slowly getting closure

I guess it's really over

I'm finally getting better

Now I'm picking up the pieces

Spending all of these years putting my heart back together

Well I'm putting my heart back together

'Cause I got over you...

Well, I got over you...

I got over you...

'Cause the day I thought I'd never get through...

I got over you.

Things Don't Always End The Way We Want

...but sometimes, the ending turns out to fit perfectly.

My favourite movies EVER in the entire world are Kill Bill vol 1 and vol 2.

I love everything about them. I love the crazy, bloody violence in volume 1. I love the toned-down, film noir feel of volume 2. I love how they both tell the same story, but in drastically different ways.

Lots of people complained about how the final showdown between The Bride and Bill was anticlimactic. It was indeed the shortest fight in both movies (there was a longer, more intense showdown planned, but was scratched due to budget/scheduling conflicts). But I don't mind, really. I think it ended the whole story perfectly. It added a brilliant touch of realism by reflecting a prominent truth in life; things don't always end the way we expect. We don't always get to say goodbye; we don't always get to resolve conflicts properly. And sometimes, even when we do get closure, it doesn't always happen the way we want.

So yes. In life, lots of things end rather anticlimactically.

I could go on and on and make a list of EVERYTHING I love about both movies... but that list would just go on forever, and I don't have forever... so I'll just end this post by quoting my favourite part from the final chapter: Face to Face.

---------------

Bill: And for the record; letting somebody think that somebody they love is dead - when they're not - is quite cruel! I mourned you for three months... and in the third month of mourning you, I tracked you down. I wasn't trying to track *you* down, I was trying to track down the fucking assholes that I thought had killed you. So I find you! And what do I find? Not only are you not dead; you're getting married to some fucking jerk... and you're pregnant! I... overreacted.

Beatrix: .... you 'overreacted'? Is that your explanation?

Bill: I didn't say I was going to explain myself; I said I was gonna tell you the truth. But if that's too cryptic; let's get literal... I'm a killer. I'm a murdering bastard; you know that. And there are consequences to breaking the heart of a murdering bastard. You experienced some of them. Was my reaction really that surprising?

Beatrix: Yes, it was. Could you do what you did? Of course you could. But I never thought you would or could do that to me.

Bill: I'm really sorry Kiddo, but you thought wrong.

And then they fight, and she kills him.

PERFECTION, in my humble opinion. So much raw emotion hidden in between the lines. I LOVE IT TO BITS.

She Blogs, She Blogs!

Ooh look, she blogs again!

I find that it's such a struggle to express myself now. I whine and moan and retell stories to my friends on a regular basis without any problems. But blogging, on the other hand, involves opening up to strangers AND attempting to sort through my thoughts - which thanks to recent events have become even more chaotic than usual.

I cannot even begin to describe the intense urge running through me now to just flee and close this post and let it stew as a draft (as I've done numerous times in the past few months; effectively explaining why I only have 8 posts for this entire year).

I've been told that even though I chatter about stuff a lot, I'm actually incredibly closed and reserved, particularly about stuff that bothers me. I should open myself up more, the person said, before effectively stabbing me straight through my still-wounded heart (but not consciously on purpose.)

I have sooooo many stories to tell, but I just CAN'T bring myself to actually TELL them here. Reason #1 is something I may have mentioned before; a creed that I forced upon myself when I was younger - 'leave no evidence behind!' It's something that I have tried to contradict throughout the years by starting diaries and journals... only to lose and stop writing in the end. I have quite a collection of unfinished diaries because of this. Diaries that were dutifully updated daily, before the gaps started appearing and the updates became more sparse, until the whole thing just ended abruptly. No formal goodbyes, no official 'this is the end of this diary'. Just a regular update that would turn out to be the last one, followed by blank pages.

That seems like quite a scary parallel to mortality, but I have no wish to dwell upon that train of thought.

Anyway, reason #2 would be the 'running from something'... thing. I dunno. There's *something* in my mind that scares me. Something buried that I don't want to uncover. It's like my mind is a library, and as of now the shelves are in disarray and lots of books are on the ground. Every time I try and sort them out; pick them up and put them back where they belong, I'm filled with an incredible sense of dread... like I'll discover something hiding beneath a pile of books, or something hiding behind a shelf. I'm pretty sure it's just my mind exaggerating... I'm actually willing to bet that if I do discover a monster, it'll turn out to be a fluffy little bunny rabbit. Like the one in Monty Python and The Holy Grail. Perfectly innocent.

Pain or no pain, though, I have decided that I will be blogging more on a regular basis. The main reason being that I don't want my writing skills to atrophy while I'm on my gap year. The other reason would be that I cannot let the library of my mind fall into decay. I have to start sorting shit out... can't postpone it any longer. I may feel like shards of glass are shooting through me every time I pick up a thought and try to sort it out... but one's got to do what one's got to do.

Maybe in a couple of month's time, I'll feel well enough to start telling stories again.

Before I leave for now though; here's an epiphany that came about while I was washing my face earlier (I know.. don't even start):

I'm atheist by choice. I put a great deal of thought into it a while back, and realized that it made much more sense than believing in something simply because my family said so. I've also stopped believing in a meaningful, orderly universe with a cosmic scale that dishes out good stuff for good people and bad stuff for bad people.

There is no god; we just like to think that. The universe is meaningless, as is our existence.

But I don't mind that at all.

There is no god that dictates what I should or should not do. There is no god that watches over every single thing that I do. My mistakes are my own, and I can fail as often as I need without having to fear punishment; my triumphs are my own.

There is no great plan; there is no meaning; there is just chaos. But it is up to me to create my own little bubble of order. It is up to me to create something out of this meaningless tumult.

I feel free. No, wait. I AM free. And I love that.

All human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.
- James Thurber

She Lives

I live!

So it's been a while. Lots of things have happened. Lots. Interesting things.

But I don't think I'll be blogging about them. Well, maybe I'll write about some minute events, but I don't think I'll be talking about the most relevant ones in the near future.

Two reasons for this;

a) It's not just *my* story alone. Granted, I'll be retelling it from my point of view, but that doesn't change the fact that there are other people involved in the story, and it might be seen as a breach of trust if I publish it on the interwebz.

b) I may have retold the story to my group of friends so many times that I can't be arsed to retell it again. I could end up just copy-pasting what I've sent to 3 different groups of people in 3 different languages. So there.

But anyway, I think I shall blog again. I am taking a gap year, and I don't want my writing skills to atrophy during that time. Besides, I really liked how even just typing about random stuff helped maintain order in the chaos that is my mind.

I think that shall be all, for today. I'll be back again soon. Maybe next time I shall speak in coded messages about what happened since the last time I updated.

Self-Diagnosis

Right.

I think I know what my problem is.

I've already established that I have a bad habit of running when things get uncomfortable. Well, basically, *that* is my problem. For a supposedly emotional creature, I don't really allow myself to feel. I let myself be giddy with happiness; float high above clouds and all that shite. But I tend to run at the first sign of anything negative. It's fairly obvious when I watch TV - if the main character has to go through disappointment or embarrassment of any kind, it takes all my strength to keep myself from switching channels or bolting out of the room.

This, from a person who genuinely hates all the cutesy fluffy stuff Disney has to offer.

I run. I run, or I suppress stuff. When life throws me a curve ball, I look away from it and distract myself with other things. Very unhealthy habit. Because ignoring or running away from said things don't really make them go away. If anything, it has the potential of making them stronger. Instead of facing up to them the moment they appear, I turn my back, and so they join together with whichever new shite comes along, and then I have twice as many demons to contend with.

I should allow myself to feel. What am I afraid of? I'm not going to break.

Maybe I'm afraid cause when I let myself feel - I *really* do feel. But I tend to be sadder than most people because I let things pile up. Maybe I should stop doing that and gather up the courage to stand my ground and face whatever's coming.

I mean... Fuck's sake.

But even Timelords run. Why can't I?

Oh, the ones that ran away. I never stopped.

- The Tenth Doctor

My Catharsis, All Mine

So I've not blogged in... quite a long time. I've actually got no one to apologize for but myself, or perhaps this blog who has probably been feeling quite lonely. I haven't visited this blog for so long that Google Chrome doesn't even auto-complete the URL anymore. That, I find quite sad.

It's just that there was a lot of school stuff that needed doing, and I've had to churn out essay after essay after essay, so now writing feels like such a chore. I've gotten A's on quite a few papers though, so I guess that has to count for something.

It's not just that, though. I think the main reason for me not posting anything here is... I'm running. Running from my own thoughts; afraid of what might come to the surface if I start jotting down the superficial ones.

Running. Bad habit. If only I could be arsed to do it in a literal way, then perhaps it'd be more productive.

There are days, however, when one realizes that the running has to stop at some point; that demons must be faced and dealt with. That, or one may simply be out of energy. I don't know which stage I'm at. Could be a combination of the two. Either way, I've decided to face the feckers.

With writing comes catharsis. But the process isn't entirely painless. Writing helps bring order to thoughts that otherwise mull about aimlessly on the surface. But organizing those reveals the even wilder chaos that lurks beneath. Few are brave enough to face that chaos willingly; I am not one of them. I run because I don't want to glimpse whatever is hidden in the recesses of my mind. I don't know what I'm afraid of, really. Compared to most people, my personal demons are not particularly vicious. But that still doesn't change the fact that I feel like bolting every few seconds even as I write this. Every bit of me is screaming at me to go do something else that is more fun - something mindless - anything. Just not this.

I'm listening to music to drown out the protests.

I've also stopped updating my diary. Another bad habit. I've got plenty of diaries from years past that were just discontinued quite abruptly. Then one day, I feel well enough again to pick up a pen and write about my life, and then the process begins again. I feel like this is a cycle that must be broken.

What is it with me? What is it that I'm so afraid of? Sticks and stones can break bones, words will never hurt (except they can), but thoughts can drag one down in ways one can't even begin to imagine.

What am I afraid of?

I don't know.

I just run. I try and keep myself busy, but the thoughts catch up eventually. And dark thoughts have a tendency to become even more vicious when one tries to suppress them.

I wish this update could be cheerier. But then that wouldn't be helpful to me at all, would it?

I knew there would be a price to pay for me choosing to take Philosophy. It's always like this. One has to take the madness that comes with the nuggets of wisdom. It's a wonder my philosophy teacher hasn't gone insane. Oh, wait...

So what am I afraid of?

I know who I am and I know that might (and most likely will) change. I know what I'm capable of and what I am not. I know that some memories hurt; but just like ordinary blades they will eventually dull and lose their ability to cause pain. I know that everything changes. I know that no matter how much I want to hold on to old things I have to learn to let go. I know all too well the pain that comes from watching (or worse; letting) opportunities saunter by.

I know, and I feel.

What am I so afraid of?

I should maybe stop running. One must stand still in order to kick asses.

Old quote, but I feel that it fits.

An artist is a creature driven by demons. He doesn't know why they choose him and he's usually too busy to wonder why.

- William Faulkner

Quotes and No Apology

I love quotations because it is a joy to find thoughts one might have, beautifully expressed with much authority by someone recognized wiser than oneself.
- Marlene Dietrich

Emo Forrest Gump:
When Forrest said life was like a box of chocolates, was he saying that life is a cheap and unoriginal present that's only truly enjoyable for a maximum of three days?
- John Brodish

All human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.
- James Thurber

One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.
- Rita Mae Brown

My name is Alice and I remember everything.
- Alice (Resident Evil)

Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's First Law of Equivalent Exchange.
- Alphonse Elric (Full Metal Alchemist)

Man is a tragic animal. Not because of his smallness, but because he is too well endowed. Man has longings and spiritual demands that reality cannot fulfill. We have expectations of a just and moral world. Man requires meaning in a meaningless world.
- Peter Wessel Zapffe

It's hard to pretend like you don't care when you actually do.
It's hard to pretend like you care when you actually don't.




And yes, btw. I am alive.

Who's Back?

It's back.

Just in time for the holiday I hate the most.

For love is no part of the dream-world. Love belongs to desire, and desire is always cruel.

- SANDMAN #9: "Tales in the Sand"

Like Eggs Being Beaten

Yes, it's been a while, I know.

There have been a lot of things going on, but I just haven't got the energy to update. Well actually I do. If I didn't have any energy left I'd be lying in bed instead of sitting here boring the life out of me. It's just that… as my rambling would suggest, my thoughts haven't been in order lately. And I'm just not used to that.

Well… I am. My thoughts have never been in proper order anyway, but there used to be at least a certain logic/order to the usual chaos. But now… thoughts are meshed together. I can't even tell where one ends or where the other begins. I worry about my future – nitpicking details about events that still lie out of reach… I run from past ghosts which, for some reason, chose to unearth themselves right at this moment. I cling to the present - a feeble attempt to hold on to my sanity. (That may perhaps be a bit too extreme… But I am actively trying to focus only on the present. It's like balancing on the edge of a knife, either way I fall—where have I heard that line before? Was it Doctor Who?)

The point is, I want to stop thinking… about things that have yet to come, and about things that have already come to pass. I can't change the past, so why fret about it?

As Master Oogway said, "Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery – but today is a gift. That is why they call it the present."

Gotta love Master Oogway.

PS: Because of excessive Torchwood, my mind's voice is now Welsh. So this entire blog post was read to me in that beautiful sing-song accent. It's just sad that whenever I try to speak with such an accent out loud, it sounds like the bastard child of Scottish and Irish (with a touch of Jamaican). Ah well. Whatever.

My thoughts seemed to have regained some kind of order now. That's good.

Posted from Word07

[EDIT: I checked, and the quote about the knife is actually from LoTR. Lady Galadriel said; "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail. But hope remains, if friends stay true."]

In Which The Authoress Experiments With Word07

One can supposedly blog from Word07, but let's see.

First things first – I am bored. Bored out of my fecking mind. And I have a cold!! So suffice to say, I cannot think properly right now.

Is it possible to die of boredom? Or at least be in a boredom-induced coma. I would be so bloody thankful if that were possible.

Anyway, I'm rambling on. I feel as though my thoughts have been chucked in to a blender to make a thought omelette. Nothing makes sense, but strangely enough everything does – if you find the right angle.

I should go…

Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.

• Albert Schweitzer
  

No Pictures, Just Travel

Oh dear.

I've been meaning to update earlier... but life has a way of, well... happening.

They say it's better to be a traveler and not a tourist, because tourists are too busy taking pictures/ videos to actually enjoy themselves. It's true. Dylan Moran said something to that effect - one isn't actually there, cause one becomes too busy taking pictures of everyone having a good time.

Anyway, the reason for that extremely convoluted and shallowly philosophical paragraph is that... As of now, I'm not taking pictures. I'm not filming anything. I'm just being a traveler; backpacking along the unexplored paths of my life. There are many trails, and I have absolutely no idea where any of them lead - signs can be misleading and everything is prone to change. But I wouldn't know for sure until I walk.

I won't use up all my time taking pictures. I'm just going to walk.

I've been walking the sci-fi path lately, and it is such a marvelous experience! I'm more of a geek now than when I first turned this route - I am now able to nod sagely and actually understand the complexities of that wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff. Well - some of it.

In between my last post and this one I watched the season finale of Doctor Who. The first part sent chills down my spine. The second part... well... I bawled my eyes out, as expected. It took a while to get over it, but I'm coming to terms with it now. Tennant is too talented to stay in one show, and at least now he can attend conventions... where fangirls can glomp him to within an inch of his life.

But it's fine now. I'm fine now. Torchwood has come to my aid. I seem to be developing a thing for Capt Jack Harkness, which isn't healthy... quite worrying, actually.

I listed in my new year's resolutions that I will stop reading YouTube comments. Sadly, I broke that rule not long after January 1st, thanks to John Barrowman and his partner Scott Gill. They were so ridiculously cute that I lost my mind and scrolled down to see what other people had to say about them. The good news is that a vast majority of people are normal, fully functioning human beings with actual emotions and common sense. The sad news is that trolls will always speak louder, and that no matter how hard you wish it is still impossible to manually reach out and strangle a person over the internet.

Someday, though... one beautiful day in the future...

Being is the great explainer.

- Henry David Thoreau