Everything considered, a determined soul will always manage.
Albert Camus.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Stress Stress Stress
Lately I am feeling very deflated. In fact, almost picturesquely so since my posture has also gotten a lot worse.
Most of it has to do with my bad habit of skipping classes and then having to cram right before tests (which I am doing now) - academic pressure I suppose. On the other hand though, it's also small things - stuff like not being able to get the rhythm right on a song I'm trying to play, not eating right, sleeping right or not having saved as much money as I would have hoped by this stage. Also, I got an appalling grade for a recent assignment.
Little unrelated things that all work together to sort of drag you down further and further. Until something comes along and you nearly explode at it.
Like the leather passport wallet I bought for the end of the year, which came in the mail today, and isn't leather at all.
I was really looking forward to it too. : (
So what to do? I called a friend and ranted and raged for a bit. Of course, it solved none of my problems.
But things always work out in the end.
Do all that you can, and accept the things you can't change - I paraphrase the sermon.
Also I am told, that it helps if you imagine yourself five years from now - all your current troubles will fall away.
Tomorrow I will take my assignment to my tutor and do exercises for the tests that I have coming up, hopefully I'll also get a reply from the place I bought the leather wallet from.
As for now, I think I'll read some Kirkegaard.
Photo credit: http://www.gadgetgrow.jp/html/gallery/index.shtml
Arimura Ryutaro for Gadget Grow
[Because I know the majority of people who stumble across this place only stop by for the pictures ^^]
Most of it has to do with my bad habit of skipping classes and then having to cram right before tests (which I am doing now) - academic pressure I suppose. On the other hand though, it's also small things - stuff like not being able to get the rhythm right on a song I'm trying to play, not eating right, sleeping right or not having saved as much money as I would have hoped by this stage. Also, I got an appalling grade for a recent assignment.
Little unrelated things that all work together to sort of drag you down further and further. Until something comes along and you nearly explode at it.
Like the leather passport wallet I bought for the end of the year, which came in the mail today, and isn't leather at all.
I was really looking forward to it too. : (
So what to do? I called a friend and ranted and raged for a bit. Of course, it solved none of my problems.
But things always work out in the end.
Do all that you can, and accept the things you can't change - I paraphrase the sermon.
Also I am told, that it helps if you imagine yourself five years from now - all your current troubles will fall away.
Tomorrow I will take my assignment to my tutor and do exercises for the tests that I have coming up, hopefully I'll also get a reply from the place I bought the leather wallet from.
As for now, I think I'll read some Kirkegaard.
Arimura Ryutaro for Gadget Grow
[Because I know the majority of people who stumble across this place only stop by for the pictures ^^]
Monday, September 12, 2011
Examples
I grow weary of a certain example of how not to live.
By what sensibility should one call oneself a Christian and go to church to console oneself about lack of control, to learn to live sensibly and to gain entry through heaven's gates? As if church were some pity party where people who are hard on their luck go, as if it were some kind of after-life insurance policy. As if this life were some kind of ticket booth where we get in line to buy tickets for heaven by going to church.
It doesn't make any sense at all.
One should go to church because one is Christian and one believes in God.
It's not supposed to be a social gathering, even if it looks, smells, sounds, feels and tastes like one.
But I am not Christian, so what the hell do I know.
He tells me that people who don't go to church will go to hell.
Well, that may be true, but I think there's a worse hell for people who pretend to go to church in order to buy heaven insurance.
On the other side, I have found a near stranger who's life is a better example.
Who has worked in many countries, and quit his high-paying job on moral grounds. Who has accepted positions in France and Germany on the condition that "my wife gets a job too". Who has played in social soccer clubs, bred dogs, and raised plants, lived on a farm, and now lives in a waterfront apartment. Who has been offered a "boy's vacation" but brings his wife because "it wouldn't be any fun without my best friend". Who has decided to work again because "I thought it was probably about time I left the house". Who looks like he has fun every day.
By what sensibility should one call oneself a Christian and go to church to console oneself about lack of control, to learn to live sensibly and to gain entry through heaven's gates? As if church were some pity party where people who are hard on their luck go, as if it were some kind of after-life insurance policy. As if this life were some kind of ticket booth where we get in line to buy tickets for heaven by going to church.
It doesn't make any sense at all.
One should go to church because one is Christian and one believes in God.
It's not supposed to be a social gathering, even if it looks, smells, sounds, feels and tastes like one.
But I am not Christian, so what the hell do I know.
He tells me that people who don't go to church will go to hell.
Well, that may be true, but I think there's a worse hell for people who pretend to go to church in order to buy heaven insurance.
On the other side, I have found a near stranger who's life is a better example.
Who has worked in many countries, and quit his high-paying job on moral grounds. Who has accepted positions in France and Germany on the condition that "my wife gets a job too". Who has played in social soccer clubs, bred dogs, and raised plants, lived on a farm, and now lives in a waterfront apartment. Who has been offered a "boy's vacation" but brings his wife because "it wouldn't be any fun without my best friend". Who has decided to work again because "I thought it was probably about time I left the house". Who looks like he has fun every day.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
A Fake Memory
A fake memory that only you believe in.
A wish that you make come true - even though it's just a little white lie you tell yourself.
That with this, you're a little closer to your dreams (whispers: not really).
A burning live house, throbbing bass.
Waves of energy rolling from the seats.
I gaze at a benign god.
He gazes at me.
We don't need words.
This time, I can breathe.
A wish that you make come true - even though it's just a little white lie you tell yourself.
That with this, you're a little closer to your dreams (whispers: not really).
A burning live house, throbbing bass.
Waves of energy rolling from the seats.
I gaze at a benign god.
He gazes at me.
We don't need words.
This time, I can breathe.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Ideas
Isn't it interesting that men would live and die for an idea?
That every invention is the result of an idea.
That until they are realised, our dreams are just ideas.
That we want to manipulate other's ideas, but can never really control our own.
That we can delude ourselves, free ourselves, enslave ourselves, fix ourselves and break ourselves with just an idea.
That every invention is the result of an idea.
That until they are realised, our dreams are just ideas.
That we want to manipulate other's ideas, but can never really control our own.
That we can delude ourselves, free ourselves, enslave ourselves, fix ourselves and break ourselves with just an idea.
You Only Have This One Life To Reach Your Dreams
Sometimes I wonder how true it is that I can never become truly great at something that I'm utterly talentless in.
Don't you sometimes wonder, what would happen if you really did sing non-stop for years and years? Surely with so much practise, you'd be at least better than where you are now? Maybe not world-class, maybe not famous, maybe not enough to win a reality show, but what if? Maybe if you worked hard enough, for long enough, really want it enough - maybe natural talent isn't as important as you think.
Ah, but then you also sometimes get those people that say "even if you believe it, it's not possible".
I don't know. Maybe because I was born with an inborn hatred of advice and should do this, should do that, don't do this, can't do that. But it really irks me to hear that.
Yes, so maybe belief isn't what makes it work. But hours and hours of work and sweat and effort and heart have got to mean something. Don't you think it would be impossible to practice for hours without getting slightly better? How about years? Have you ever heard of someone who sings with all their heart for years and is still no good??
Just refuse it. Your life is down to you anyway. If you want to believe in something, damn well do it and forget whether you should or not, or whether it will yield results. After all, if you believe it hard enough, work hard enough, I think you'll hear a difference in how you sound - even if no one else does. And while that might not be enough to win a show, isn't that enough to secure a little happiness for yourself?
If you think about it, I think the believing that it's possible is also a form of believing in yourself.
A unbridled sense of the world is mine and I can be me.
So yes, I'll probably keep ruining the neighbours lives with my late-afternoon impromptu piano recitals. Probably keep strumming on my guitar and singing in my room even though I know I have the rhythm of a half-tranqed deer.
I don't really want to be a musician.
But sometimes it's nice to just believe that I can.
I like to think that thus far, I've been able to hold on to the wide open expanses of "I can be whatever I want when I'm old" that belongs almost exclusively to children.
So many people grow up and realise that their dreams have fences and insurmountable walls.
But you don't.
Even if its a wild idea with nothing tangible to back it up, just try. Dream a little bit.
Don't worry anymore about it being pointless or impossible.
For all you know, you only have this one life to reach your dreams.
Don't you sometimes wonder, what would happen if you really did sing non-stop for years and years? Surely with so much practise, you'd be at least better than where you are now? Maybe not world-class, maybe not famous, maybe not enough to win a reality show, but what if? Maybe if you worked hard enough, for long enough, really want it enough - maybe natural talent isn't as important as you think.
Ah, but then you also sometimes get those people that say "even if you believe it, it's not possible".
I don't know. Maybe because I was born with an inborn hatred of advice and should do this, should do that, don't do this, can't do that. But it really irks me to hear that.
Yes, so maybe belief isn't what makes it work. But hours and hours of work and sweat and effort and heart have got to mean something. Don't you think it would be impossible to practice for hours without getting slightly better? How about years? Have you ever heard of someone who sings with all their heart for years and is still no good??
Just refuse it. Your life is down to you anyway. If you want to believe in something, damn well do it and forget whether you should or not, or whether it will yield results. After all, if you believe it hard enough, work hard enough, I think you'll hear a difference in how you sound - even if no one else does. And while that might not be enough to win a show, isn't that enough to secure a little happiness for yourself?
If you think about it, I think the believing that it's possible is also a form of believing in yourself.
A unbridled sense of the world is mine and I can be me.
So yes, I'll probably keep ruining the neighbours lives with my late-afternoon impromptu piano recitals. Probably keep strumming on my guitar and singing in my room even though I know I have the rhythm of a half-tranqed deer.
I don't really want to be a musician.
But sometimes it's nice to just believe that I can.
I like to think that thus far, I've been able to hold on to the wide open expanses of "I can be whatever I want when I'm old" that belongs almost exclusively to children.
So many people grow up and realise that their dreams have fences and insurmountable walls.
But you don't.
Even if its a wild idea with nothing tangible to back it up, just try. Dream a little bit.
Don't worry anymore about it being pointless or impossible.
For all you know, you only have this one life to reach your dreams.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
On Normality And Living Quietly - And Why It Shouldn't Be Attempted At All
I'm sure its quite clear, from my purple (and blonde-streaked) hair and taste in music and clothes and my interests and my tendency to do things on an impulse, that I am not quite normal.
But only in that I'm a straight-A over-achieving asian business student.
With purple (and blonde-streaked) hair.
And not-normal tastes in music and clothes and interests.
Who's impulsive.
I'm not quite the stereotypical teenager who parties and drinks.
I'm not quite the rebelling teenager who has safety pins in their ears.
And I'm not quite the asian kid either.
The thing is, for the most part of my life, my dad has been trying to get me to conform to this idea of normality. Just yesterday, he came and told me that I shouldn't have dyed my hair blonde (funny he never noticed when it was purple).
"You should live quietly, don't stand out and be a target. Live peacefully and without drawing attention, don't dress strangely and just do what you are supposed to."
There's something so disturbingly wrong about that advice.
Not only is it just ludicrous, almost telling your child not to excel in any way - just to live quietly.
What does that even mean?
I'm hoping he doesn't mean a cute little quiet bambi-esque tottering fool of a stereotypical asian girl who posts a bajillion pictures of desserts and themselves on facebook, gets good grades, has a boringly unexciting part time job until they graduate from their degree as fast as possible (with no exchanges, honors or worthwhile experiences). After which they'll work at a bank or mid-sized accounting firm until they find a nice asian boy who will marry her and look after her while she stays home and has children and looks after the children.
However, I have irrefutable proof that at the very least, he means a docile asian girl who gets good grades and etc etc etc.
I don't really know what the best way to respond to this is.
I mean, there are so many glaringly obvious stupid things in what he wants.
And I'll leave docile to the end.
And finally, being docile, being unexceptional, living quietly.
I'm afraid the greatest counter-argument to this is possibly an ad-hominem. I do not want to be unexceptional because you are unexceptional. You have nothing to live for and you pass your days in quiet acceptance that somewhere along the way, your dreams collapsed like a house of cards and it's too late to rebuild it all again.
But I like standing out. I like being myself. I like it when my middle-aged japanese teacher (who comes from a country where the unspoken motto is "the nail that sticks up will get hammered down") tells me that she likes my hair and asks if I do it myself.
I am not ashamed of myself. I am not afraid to stand out. If anyone truly judges me for what I look like or how I dress, then they are not worth meeting - and yet, if we are given the chance to meet. I am sure that I can change their opinion of me. I have nothing to hide. I am unashamedly myself, and it is unbelievably sad if you cannot say the same.
Where are your dreams? Where are your ambitions?
I will not give up on what I believe in. And I will never stop trying, never stop encouraging everyone around me to try, please try, to be exactly who you want to be.
And if, by some chance, my purple hair and eccentric tastes can encourage others to live LOUDLY and without any HESITATION, then that is worth more to me than any approval you could ever give me.
So no, I will not dye my hair black.
I will not live quietly.
I will stand out and be a target.
I will not live peacefully.
I will draw attention.
I will dress however the hell I want.
And I will do whatever the fuck I want - whether I am supposed to or not.
But only in that I'm a straight-A over-achieving asian business student.
With purple (and blonde-streaked) hair.
And not-normal tastes in music and clothes and interests.
Who's impulsive.
I'm not quite the stereotypical teenager who parties and drinks.
I'm not quite the rebelling teenager who has safety pins in their ears.
And I'm not quite the asian kid either.
The thing is, for the most part of my life, my dad has been trying to get me to conform to this idea of normality. Just yesterday, he came and told me that I shouldn't have dyed my hair blonde (funny he never noticed when it was purple).
"You should live quietly, don't stand out and be a target. Live peacefully and without drawing attention, don't dress strangely and just do what you are supposed to."
There's something so disturbingly wrong about that advice.
Not only is it just ludicrous, almost telling your child not to excel in any way - just to live quietly.
What does that even mean?
I'm hoping he doesn't mean a cute little quiet bambi-esque tottering fool of a stereotypical asian girl who posts a bajillion pictures of desserts and themselves on facebook, gets good grades, has a boringly unexciting part time job until they graduate from their degree as fast as possible (with no exchanges, honors or worthwhile experiences). After which they'll work at a bank or mid-sized accounting firm until they find a nice asian boy who will marry her and look after her while she stays home and has children and looks after the children.
However, I have irrefutable proof that at the very least, he means a docile asian girl who gets good grades and etc etc etc.
I don't really know what the best way to respond to this is.
I mean, there are so many glaringly obvious stupid things in what he wants.
And I'll leave docile to the end.
- Get good grades
- I get good grades because I have pride in my actions and myself as a person, not because it's something that I should do. If I'm going to do it, I'm going to do it well - no half measures. You should get good grades because you want them, not because it's something you ought to do. Similarly, you should do things because you want to, not because you ought to.
- Have a boringly unexciting part time job
- I do have a part-time job. I work in a mid-high end jewellery shop on the main street next to Louis Vuitton and Gucci. That is not a boringly unexciting part time job. When I was 18 or so, he started nagging me to get a job. He suggested McDonalds and Foodtown, even local takeaways. And when I refused, he told me I was stubborn and that I should take any opportunities I had. Two weeks or so later, I broke a chain and ended up with this job. I made my own opportunities. Don't settle. Make your own opportunities.
- Graduate from a degree as fast as possible (with no exchanges, honors or worthwhile experiences)
- He doesn't know this, but I'm doing a conjoint degree with four majors. I'm hopefully going on a one-month exchange to Tokyo University in summer, and after that, a one year exchange to Keio University. And even with all of this, I will graduate at the same time as my peers because I take 5 papers a semester and I do summer school. I have made new friends and I have made old friends again. I have had revelations, admirations, epiphanies (and epiphones!) and I have worked my ass off for all of it. Do as much as you can.
- Work at a bank or mid-sized accounting firm:
- Fuck it. Every time I hear a person say that they've worked the same job for more than 4 years, some part of me shudders with horror. They don't love it. They spend their lives doing it. And much more often than not, it's for the benefit of someone else - a corporation, a boss, a manager. I want to work for myself - not in a self-owned business way, but in a "fulfilling my dreams" kind of way. What if we never have another chance at this? What if this one life is all you have? I refuse to spend it in any way other than exactly how I want.
- Find a nice asian boy
- How about find someone who is engaging and honest? Someone whos' company makes you happy and whos' jokes makes you smile? He doesn't have to be cookie-cutter nice. I don't care if he has tattoos or long hair or is a total dead-beat artist on the street - as long as he is a genuinely decent person who has a nice personality, and tries to look after you, that's more than enough. And no, I don't care if he is asian. And nor should you.
- Get married and be looked after, stay home, have children and look after them.
- This is just stupid, and sadly not in the least exaggerated. What century do you live in? I don't mind getting married, or being looked after - but come on. Marriage is not the only thing that girls aim for. When we get married, it doesn't mean that we are suddenly completely content with everything. Marriage changes nothing in terms of aspirations - at least for me. And even if I had children, I will have insatiable goals my entire life.
And finally, being docile, being unexceptional, living quietly.
I'm afraid the greatest counter-argument to this is possibly an ad-hominem. I do not want to be unexceptional because you are unexceptional. You have nothing to live for and you pass your days in quiet acceptance that somewhere along the way, your dreams collapsed like a house of cards and it's too late to rebuild it all again.
But I like standing out. I like being myself. I like it when my middle-aged japanese teacher (who comes from a country where the unspoken motto is "the nail that sticks up will get hammered down") tells me that she likes my hair and asks if I do it myself.
I am not ashamed of myself. I am not afraid to stand out. If anyone truly judges me for what I look like or how I dress, then they are not worth meeting - and yet, if we are given the chance to meet. I am sure that I can change their opinion of me. I have nothing to hide. I am unashamedly myself, and it is unbelievably sad if you cannot say the same.
Where are your dreams? Where are your ambitions?
I will not give up on what I believe in. And I will never stop trying, never stop encouraging everyone around me to try, please try, to be exactly who you want to be.
And if, by some chance, my purple hair and eccentric tastes can encourage others to live LOUDLY and without any HESITATION, then that is worth more to me than any approval you could ever give me.
So no, I will not dye my hair black.
I will not live quietly.
I will stand out and be a target.
I will not live peacefully.
I will draw attention.
I will dress however the hell I want.
And I will do whatever the fuck I want - whether I am supposed to or not.
I've Lost My Glove
This is a plea to everyone in Auckland:
If you find the left hand of a pair of reddish brown leather gloves lined in wool, please let me know.
I've just left mine on a late-night bus and I don't think I'll ever see it again.
It is a souvenir from my parents, so if you find it, please please please get in touch with me! I will be happy to post a reward.
And just in case I never find it,
This is a plea to anyone in Italy:
If you are able to go to the
If you find the left hand of a pair of reddish brown leather gloves lined in wool, please let me know.
I've just left mine on a late-night bus and I don't think I'll ever see it again.
It is a souvenir from my parents, so if you find it, please please please get in touch with me! I will be happy to post a reward.
And just in case I never find it,
This is a plea to anyone in Italy:
If you are able to go to the
Martelli Glove Factory
And can buy me a pair of gloves in size 8, please also contact me.
I will be happy to pay for the gloves + paypal fees + international shipping + payment for your services.
Thank you to anyone who can help out!!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Losing Yourself (But Not In A Romantic Love Song Sort Of Way)
It's not as if "oh, the world sucks."
It's not like "god, I hate my life."
It's a little more like a little plaintive murmur
"it's a little less right than I thought it would be."
Days go past and hours fly by
Measured by unattended places
and "it's all getting harder".
Expectations make the world go round
But you disappoint me
and I'm sure if you knew me
I would disappoint you.
Such words that fall
but there is no sword
no strength, no will
Measure your youth in misguided actions
In misunderstood phrases
be a stereotype
no, stand out.
Fall back on what you have
On your lips, "I'm aiming for more"
But nothing's been done
and you're just an act.
Don't lose it.
What gives you drive
Don't be comfortable.
Don't forget it.
What makes you , you.
What makes the stars in your eyes
light up with hope
And see a future, that's only for you.
It's not like "god, I hate my life."
It's a little more like a little plaintive murmur
"it's a little less right than I thought it would be."
Days go past and hours fly by
Measured by unattended places
and "it's all getting harder".
Expectations make the world go round
But you disappoint me
and I'm sure if you knew me
I would disappoint you.
Such words that fall
but there is no sword
no strength, no will
Measure your youth in misguided actions
In misunderstood phrases
be a stereotype
no, stand out.
Fall back on what you have
On your lips, "I'm aiming for more"
But nothing's been done
and you're just an act.
Don't lose it.
What gives you drive
Don't be comfortable.
Don't forget it.
What makes you , you.
What makes the stars in your eyes
light up with hope
And see a future, that's only for you.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Make My Own and Pull It Off
I shall be as cryptic as I like, thanks very much.
And I've decided that one day soon, I'm going to be magnificent.
<3
And I've decided that one day soon, I'm going to be magnificent.
<3
Top two pictures: Asos.com (free international shipping lol)
Bottom picture: thesartorialist.com
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
How Levni Yilmaz Does It
Ok, so I've spent the greater part of my day watching his videos on youtube and I'm pretty sure I know how he does it. I think.
My theory goes like this:
No. When you edit the video, you can mirror it. That turns everything back the right way.
So basically, he draws and we see exactly what he draws, the right way round, only we never really see his hand.
My theory goes like this:
- He draws on a sheet of tracing paper which is on a pane of glass.
- The pencil or marker he uses is dark enough to show through the tracing paper.
- A camera is set up on the other side of the pane of glass and records the reverse side of what he draws - that's how you can see his hand behind the picture.
No. When you edit the video, you can mirror it. That turns everything back the right way.
So basically, he draws and we see exactly what he draws, the right way round, only we never really see his hand.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The Silly Stories I Told A Boy
Boy: *something along the lines of "Hahah, what are you planning to do tonight, work on your accounting assignment?"*
Me: Oh dude, you have no idea. I'm going to go base jumping off the business school, then play lead guitar in my slipknot tribute band. After that I'll head over to a boyracer shindig and drift around some corners at stupid speeds because I'm Asian like that.
-Two Days Later-
Boy: *hahah same thing as last time*
Me: Not working on assignment tonight, I got my pilot's license today, and a family friend is teaching me how to fly a US fighter jet because he owes my grandfather a favor.
Boy: *...wow r u serious. That's actually like the coolest thing I've ever heard ae. U must be stoked to have that license. well done. So when wil u get to fly the first jet?
Me: I'm not allowed to fly commericial jets you see, with my inability to stay awake for long haul flights. I mostly test light recon aircraft for countries you're not supposed to know about. They pay well. Lots of oil.
Boy: oh so do u work there as like a summer job or like is it not really work. It sounds pretty interesting ae.
Me: Why do you think I'm always skipping class and falling asleep? haha.
Boy: I didn't no that u skipped class. U must be exceptionally smart to skip class and do al th hard papers that u do ae.
Me: I'm the result of a collaboration of US and Chinese military intelligence. They made me in a lab in Russia. I can recite pi to 7000 places.
Me: Oh dude, you have no idea. I'm going to go base jumping off the business school, then play lead guitar in my slipknot tribute band. After that I'll head over to a boyracer shindig and drift around some corners at stupid speeds because I'm Asian like that.
-Two Days Later-
Boy: *hahah same thing as last time*
Me: Not working on assignment tonight, I got my pilot's license today, and a family friend is teaching me how to fly a US fighter jet because he owes my grandfather a favor.
Boy: *...wow r u serious. That's actually like the coolest thing I've ever heard ae. U must be stoked to have that license. well done. So when wil u get to fly the first jet?
Me: I'm not allowed to fly commericial jets you see, with my inability to stay awake for long haul flights. I mostly test light recon aircraft for countries you're not supposed to know about. They pay well. Lots of oil.
Boy: oh so do u work there as like a summer job or like is it not really work. It sounds pretty interesting ae.
Me: Why do you think I'm always skipping class and falling asleep? haha.
Boy: I didn't no that u skipped class. U must be exceptionally smart to skip class and do al th hard papers that u do ae.
Me: I'm the result of a collaboration of US and Chinese military intelligence. They made me in a lab in Russia. I can recite pi to 7000 places.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Dear Mom
I found a good quote today.
“We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once”.
It means something like: every day that we do not dance is a day that we have wasted.
But dance does not mean to dance to music. It means to live, enjoy and be happy.
Please do not always always think of [insert name here] while you are on your trip. He would want you to enjoy yourself.
In the future, you will definitely go on another trip together, but until then, no matter the sad things in life, you should dance every day!
There are many things that you cannot control or change.
But if you always think about what you do not have, what you cannot do, what you wish you had, life becomes very painful and heavy to carry.
Sometimes looking on the bright side or counting what you have does not help.
Instead, maybe you should think that “I am the sum of my experiences”
Every bad thing that has happened to me has changed me, made me who I am at this moment, so I am grateful.
Without those bad things, I would not be who I am today.
Who I am today is a Good Person.
If bad things happen to you, just think – maybe they are here so that you can become a better person.
Or maybe as a test to see how you will react.
Think, “if my life were a book, what kind of story do I want to tell?”
I don’t know why I wrote that for you.
I seem to think about these things a lot these days.
Try to have fun on your trip, I will see you when you get home!!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
What Kind Of Music Do You Want To Make?
Imagine if, for example, your appearance and your words are a kind of music.
What kind of music do you want to make?
Become who you are - Nietzsche.
Plastic Tree - Gessekai
Credit: MusicJapanPlus.
What kind of music do you want to make?
Become who you are - Nietzsche.
Credit: MusicJapanPlus.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
What I Live For
Months and months ago, my mother asked me what were my five most important things in life. She told me hers, and it went something along the lines of wealth, family, happiness, health and something else, in no particular order.
At the time, I couldn't think of anything. Mostly because I was going through a sort of depressive period, and nothing was really getting through to me at all.
But now that I'm 19 (yes, I will get around to posting the countdown, I haven't forgotten about it!), I've grown up a lot since then, and I've learned a lot about myself and how I want to live my life, what I want to think and what's really important to me.
So here is my top five most important things/ways of thinking/I'm not even sure what to call them:
At the time, I couldn't think of anything. Mostly because I was going through a sort of depressive period, and nothing was really getting through to me at all.
But now that I'm 19 (yes, I will get around to posting the countdown, I haven't forgotten about it!), I've grown up a lot since then, and I've learned a lot about myself and how I want to live my life, what I want to think and what's really important to me.
So here is my top five most important things/ways of thinking/I'm not even sure what to call them:
- Aspirations. Insatiable goals, impossible affections. – to strive towards dreams, have motivation and work for a purpose, live passionately.
- Freedom to happiness. Without restraints or regrets. – to live without having regrets, without fear and with the resources to do what i want
- Conviction. Belief and hope. – to believe that there are better things to come, life is wonderful and everything will work out.
- Strength. 自信 and actions. – to have confidence that I can do anything, and have confidence in my abilities.
- Productivity. Create and inspire – to have a positive impact on the world, on others and to create things with my own hands.
- It's the second week of semester and I'm a week behind in two classes already. But I think it's worth it, even if I have to cram 30 hours in two days later. I'd rather grow old with great memories of hanging out with friends and having fun than a perfect gpa. (That being said, I still get straight As (literally), so I'm not saying not to study - I do. I just don't go to the actual class [there are recordings])
- I spend the majority of my time in the printing office in the Uni library - don't worry, it's not weird or anything lol, my friend works there. So I help out with the binding and stuff. Sadly, most of my other friends are really busy this semester, working, or not even showing up. One of them even dropped out. But everyone has their own path, I'll be fine.
- I'm content. Really, there's nothing else to say. I have food in the fridge, a place to live, friends that like me, interests that consume me, work that motivates me and dreams that give me hope. There's not much else I can ask for.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Quietly Quietly
Quietly quietly. A passion inward that is unseen. Between shocks of black, blonde, tawny violet, these colors framed by mistake.
Another rotation spins round and round, messages too common to repeat. Instead "bloom and glory forever", and never may they fade.
So many changes, by what name and cause, what river, what ocean, from which they stream, a tragedy by any other name.
Books and books, pages and pages, the scrawls of "your geniuses" and carbon copies. Ideas and hopes to die for.
Star light, star bright, purple towels and black guitars. No shooting ones, but does this by my hand count as a wish? I'll try.
Pages and pages, stacks and stacks, the quiet broken by my laughs and sighs. I'll run to you to find solace and peace, a page to ease my heart.
I'll find myself in "real places", dusty tomes and uneven edges, on a bright screen with foreign letters and in the notes of a screeching guitar.
Because when you grow up, you learn to like who you are.
Another rotation spins round and round, messages too common to repeat. Instead "bloom and glory forever", and never may they fade.
So many changes, by what name and cause, what river, what ocean, from which they stream, a tragedy by any other name.
Books and books, pages and pages, the scrawls of "your geniuses" and carbon copies. Ideas and hopes to die for.
Star light, star bright, purple towels and black guitars. No shooting ones, but does this by my hand count as a wish? I'll try.
Pages and pages, stacks and stacks, the quiet broken by my laughs and sighs. I'll run to you to find solace and peace, a page to ease my heart.
I'll find myself in "real places", dusty tomes and uneven edges, on a bright screen with foreign letters and in the notes of a screeching guitar.
Because when you grow up, you learn to like who you are.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
[Day -14] Monday 11th July: It's Not Worth The Heartache
Take a step back.
I dyed my hair again today. It was a very productive day.
I turned the entire bathroom purple.
Picture: Ryutaro Arimura
Plastic Tree - Zero Photobook
Sunday, July 10, 2011
[Day -15] Sunday 10th July: So Fuck It
But a part of me can't help but feel that I'm on the right road, and I'm taking the right steps. I know where I'm going.
Insatiable goals, impossible affections.
Picture: Ryutaro Arimura
Plastic Tree
[Day -16] Saturday 9th July: Idea
It occured to me (while further damaging my now-purple hair), that it's the journey that counts.
Why is it that cliched phrases never hold any sense to me until I discover them myself?
Why is it that cliched phrases never hold any sense to me until I discover them myself?
Photo: Ryutarou Arimura
Plastic Tree - Ammonite Live House Tour photobook.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Resonating Ideas.
- The marathon runner who watches his competition will inevitably run into a tree.
- The stick which flows with the current is swifter.
- See everything from the other person's perspective.
- Shape yourself by becoming who you picture yourself to be.
- Only some people can pull it off. You are one of them.
- You are only young once. Do not have regrets.
- If you do not do it, you will regret it.
- If you keep trying, day by day you will improve and one day become something great.
- Do a little bit more today than yesterday.
- This is how I want to live in this lifetime.
- I believe.
[Day -17] Friday 8th July: Resonance
In order to record my 19th year (as in, the year in which I am the age of 19), I plan to write something every day, until the 24th of July 2012. However, considering that it is not yet the 24th, I'm going to start with a negative countdown. (And if the countdown is screwed up, I did it on purpose that way, so keep your silence!)
Begin!
I want an idea that resonates in my very soul.
Picture: Ryutaro Arimura
Plastic Tree
Boukyaku Monologue Photobook.
Friday, July 8, 2011
[Day -18] Thursday 7th July: From That Day I Stayed At Home And Watched TV All Day
This is your strength.
(and yes, I am a little bit ashamed of spending all day watching TV)
Picture: Antm Season 15 (Ann Ward) - Patrick Demarchelier
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Nash Equilibria And Dominant Strategies
I know I don't go to class much, but surely I'm not the only one who can't understand this:
"Middle weakly dominates Bottom for Center weakly dominates Right"
It's 1am or so. (I plan to stay up until 4 or so lol).
Last exam is tomorrow.
Afterwards I'll probably have lunch, buy a pair of white docs (maybe), drop in at work, read a book, go to my moms and play piano.
Oh and, yeah, dye my hair.
Purple.
I kid not. : )
"Middle weakly dominates Bottom for Center weakly dominates Right"
It's 1am or so. (I plan to stay up until 4 or so lol).
Last exam is tomorrow.
Afterwards I'll probably have lunch, buy a pair of white docs (maybe), drop in at work, read a book, go to my moms and play piano.
Oh and, yeah, dye my hair.
Purple.
I kid not. : )
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Really Hate Internet Explorer 9
Why on earth is the favourites button all the way in the corner?
Statistically, one's mouse is on the left side of the screen more than the right, and - although this is just conjecture - surely I'm not the only one that navigates the internet almost solely by my favourites bar?
In other news, less than 36 hours to my Econ exam, and I've done 0 hours of preparation. I'm serious, I haven't even opened the book and I've been to three classes all semester.
I have been a bit of a shit about this studying business, haven't I?
Not to mention I have a Japanese exam the day before the Econ exam as well.
Let's see how well I can bullshit my way out of this mess, shall we?
Statistically, one's mouse is on the left side of the screen more than the right, and - although this is just conjecture - surely I'm not the only one that navigates the internet almost solely by my favourites bar?
In other news, less than 36 hours to my Econ exam, and I've done 0 hours of preparation. I'm serious, I haven't even opened the book and I've been to three classes all semester.
I have been a bit of a shit about this studying business, haven't I?
Not to mention I have a Japanese exam the day before the Econ exam as well.
Let's see how well I can bullshit my way out of this mess, shall we?
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The Passionate Life.
The passionate life.
It is a life defined by emotions, by impassioned engagement and belief, by one or more quests, grand projects, embracing affectsons.
It is also characterized...in terms of frenzy, vaulting ambition, "sickness unto death". Essentially insatiable goals, impossible affections.
...
Philosophy is, or should be, a kind of magic.
-Robert C. Solomon, The Joy of Philosophy.
It is a life defined by emotions, by impassioned engagement and belief, by one or more quests, grand projects, embracing affectsons.
It is also characterized...in terms of frenzy, vaulting ambition, "sickness unto death". Essentially insatiable goals, impossible affections.
...
Philosophy is, or should be, a kind of magic.
-Robert C. Solomon, The Joy of Philosophy.
Monday, June 20, 2011
手伝ってくれない？
自分だけでできないよ。
できることをしますが、 ほかのことをちょっと手伝ってくれない？
すこしだけ。
いつも自分でがんばるのはやさしくないから、 手伝ってくださいませんか？
今の感じは「空」し、 何をするもわからない。
外で雨が降ったでも、 傘がこわれてった。
それでも、 明日はあたらしい日です。
![]()
Picture:
Arimura Ryutarou - Plastic Tree.
できることをしますが、 ほかのことをちょっと手伝ってくれない？
すこしだけ。
いつも自分でがんばるのはやさしくないから、 手伝ってくださいませんか？
今の感じは「空」し、 何をするもわからない。
外で雨が降ったでも、 傘がこわれてった。
それでも、 明日はあたらしい日です。
Arimura Ryutarou - Plastic Tree.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Dearest Finance Department....
As much as I understand my opinion doesn't rank very highly, being an undergraduate student - not to mention one that shows up to 4/36 lectures, I'd like to make a few suggestions.
Firstly, thank you for recording your lectures. You have freed up a lot of my time during the semester, in which I did far more enjoyable things - such as wasting time and eating lunch - instead of attending classes.
Now, I know what I'm about to say is probaby down to exam stress (since the exam is indeed, tomorrow), but I would nonetheless like to point something out that may have skipped your attention.
1. Please don't use pencils when making notes, it's impossible to decipher, whether its a recording or in the lecture.
2. So maybe people did show up to the Monday morning 8am tutorial, but I bet they didn't after the tutor tried to answer a question for 15 minutes, crossed out his answer then asked "so what do you think?".
Actually, overall, it hasn't been that bad. I mean, it's been pretty bad, but I'll let the student evaluations speak for themselves. From what I gather about the general comments in the evaluations, you're going to have a hell of a year trying to reorganize the course next year.
Lastly, as a parting note, please..
for the love of god and all that is holy
A HORIZONTAL AXIS CANNOT BE BOTH TIME AND PRICE.
It doesn't make any SENSE.
And DRAWING OVER THE HORIZONTAL AXIS A MILLION TIMES DOES NOT MAKE IT MORE COHERENT. IT ONLY MAKES THE LINE DARKER AND THICKER.
Yours sincerely,
An extremely irate student.
ps. Loving the random 3 minute total silences in the lecture recordings, because I know they aren't technical faults.
Firstly, thank you for recording your lectures. You have freed up a lot of my time during the semester, in which I did far more enjoyable things - such as wasting time and eating lunch - instead of attending classes.
Now, I know what I'm about to say is probaby down to exam stress (since the exam is indeed, tomorrow), but I would nonetheless like to point something out that may have skipped your attention.
1. Please don't use pencils when making notes, it's impossible to decipher, whether its a recording or in the lecture.
2. So maybe people did show up to the Monday morning 8am tutorial, but I bet they didn't after the tutor tried to answer a question for 15 minutes, crossed out his answer then asked "so what do you think?".
Actually, overall, it hasn't been that bad. I mean, it's been pretty bad, but I'll let the student evaluations speak for themselves. From what I gather about the general comments in the evaluations, you're going to have a hell of a year trying to reorganize the course next year.
Lastly, as a parting note, please..
for the love of god and all that is holy
A HORIZONTAL AXIS CANNOT BE BOTH TIME AND PRICE.
It doesn't make any SENSE.
And DRAWING OVER THE HORIZONTAL AXIS A MILLION TIMES DOES NOT MAKE IT MORE COHERENT. IT ONLY MAKES THE LINE DARKER AND THICKER.
Yours sincerely,
An extremely irate student.
ps. Loving the random 3 minute total silences in the lecture recordings, because I know they aren't technical faults.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The Hours, Days, Weeks, Months.
I want to dye my hair purple.
I think I'm wasting too much time. If there was a countdown for one's youth, in the form of a ticking clock, it'd be strapped to my back and I'd be flattened by its weight.
It's like time has been broken into "manageable pieces"; hours, days, weeks, months, but why is it that hours pass like days and days pass like months and the months pass like seconds?
And the years are trickling through the gaps in your fingers.
I want to play music and short-circuit the speakers.
Would you believe I have a book of Emerson's poetry on top of my amp? I like that kind of thing. Juxtapositions.
Next to that, sketchbooks filled with drawings of smoke and profiles, and profiles smoking.
This room is filled with me. The black guitar by the mirror. The chrysanthemum tea cans in a line. The band tshirts folded in perfect stacks.
I know every inch of this place, every contour of every item.
I want more books. I'll stack them on my amp.
I don't know what I'm doing.
I'm wasting the hours, days, weeks, months. I don't want to ask. I can't handle advice. Times like these, I "look like an only child" don't I?
I'm too stubborn. Won't listen. Don't waste time learning that, learn this. Become an architect. Become a banker. Should be like her. Should be like me. Should learn some philosophy.
Oh how the irony in that last part burns.
I want to run away most nights.
I wish I had wings, but a plane ticket will do. I'd pack just one bag and bring my guitar, like those ridiculous teenage movies. I'll climb out a window (and break my neck), making it to the airport just as my gate closes.
I'd like to migrate like the birds but escape summer entirely. I'll circle the globe clock-wise and go to Zurich on a whim. I don't want to be an architect. Or a banker. Maybe one day I'll learn to whistle.
I'm afraid I'll forget what it's like to be young.
So I write lines every day to remember each hour, day, week, month.
Maybe I should take photos.
I don't want to grow up.
Picture credits: Reita, The GazettE
I think I'm wasting too much time. If there was a countdown for one's youth, in the form of a ticking clock, it'd be strapped to my back and I'd be flattened by its weight.
It's like time has been broken into "manageable pieces"; hours, days, weeks, months, but why is it that hours pass like days and days pass like months and the months pass like seconds?
And the years are trickling through the gaps in your fingers.
I want to play music and short-circuit the speakers.
Would you believe I have a book of Emerson's poetry on top of my amp? I like that kind of thing. Juxtapositions.
Next to that, sketchbooks filled with drawings of smoke and profiles, and profiles smoking.
This room is filled with me. The black guitar by the mirror. The chrysanthemum tea cans in a line. The band tshirts folded in perfect stacks.
I know every inch of this place, every contour of every item.
I want more books. I'll stack them on my amp.
I don't know what I'm doing.
I'm wasting the hours, days, weeks, months. I don't want to ask. I can't handle advice. Times like these, I "look like an only child" don't I?
I'm too stubborn. Won't listen. Don't waste time learning that, learn this. Become an architect. Become a banker. Should be like her. Should be like me. Should learn some philosophy.
Oh how the irony in that last part burns.
I want to run away most nights.
I wish I had wings, but a plane ticket will do. I'd pack just one bag and bring my guitar, like those ridiculous teenage movies. I'll climb out a window (and break my neck), making it to the airport just as my gate closes.
I'd like to migrate like the birds but escape summer entirely. I'll circle the globe clock-wise and go to Zurich on a whim. I don't want to be an architect. Or a banker. Maybe one day I'll learn to whistle.
I'm afraid I'll forget what it's like to be young.
So I write lines every day to remember each hour, day, week, month.
Maybe I should take photos.
I don't want to grow up.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Organic
Hair bleach and
collarbones
Buses and smoke like
watermelon
Lights on a bridge
where there used to be trees.
[I want to love organic.]
"I want to love organic" from Closer - Plastic Tree.
死の青いスクリーン - Google Translate It. Do It.
My laptop just contracted the mother of all viruses, as well as the lovely Blue Screen of Death.
I'm on safe mode with networking - and may stay this way for the forseeable future, since I keep crashing after two minutes every time I restart. Sigh.
I turned on my computer this morning to see "your computer did not shut down properly". Hmm, weird. *two minutes later* "stop error blah blah blah" - it went too quickly to read.
But who doesn't cower in fear at the bright peacock blue that is the Blue Screen of Death.
So I turn it on again, schedule a boot-time scan, and it finds the MOTHER OF ALL VIRUSES absolutely everywhere! 3 hours of deleting and repairing and "moving to chest"-ing later...
*Blue Screen of Death*
ARGHHH
Ok FINE, BE THAT WAY.
Next, we restore it to about two weeks ago.
*Blue Screen of Death*
=_____=
Restore it to a month ago.
*Blue Screen of Death*
asklfjagiwrg!!
Scheduled a disc check for (C:)
*Blue Screen of Death*
Another boot-time scan. (Which takes another 2 hours). No viruses.
*Blue Screen of Death*
MOTHERFUCKER.
Uninstalled a corrupt file and deleted it
*Blue Screen of Death*
Nearly 9 hours later
*Blue Screen of Death*
Screw this shit. And don't ask me to format, because I don't have the installation CD and clearly I'm an idiot for not making a system rescue cd. Which I will do at the next opportunity when mr.laptop DOESN'T have an emotional breakdown.
Seriously, up until this point of my life, the most I've ever had to do is click a button to run a virus scan. Then click another button to delete.
Clearly my laptop is having jealousy issues. It's watching me use Ipod and Phone (read: not Iphone) and the computers at uni and it's getting upset because I don't lug it to uni like every other business student.
WELL I'M SORRY, BUT I'M PUNY AND WEAK AND I CAN'T CARRY YOU ALL DAY.
But really it's probably the virus has gotten too far into the system and I'll have to format and buy another copy of Windows 7.
Or a new laptop.
If only they made macbooks in black again...
(Please don't get mad at me and explode, I was joking about the new laptop, really!)
((No I wasn't.))
I'm on safe mode with networking - and may stay this way for the forseeable future, since I keep crashing after two minutes every time I restart. Sigh.
I turned on my computer this morning to see "your computer did not shut down properly". Hmm, weird. *two minutes later* "stop error blah blah blah" - it went too quickly to read.
But who doesn't cower in fear at the bright peacock blue that is the Blue Screen of Death.
So I turn it on again, schedule a boot-time scan, and it finds the MOTHER OF ALL VIRUSES absolutely everywhere! 3 hours of deleting and repairing and "moving to chest"-ing later...
*Blue Screen of Death*
ARGHHH
Ok FINE, BE THAT WAY.
Next, we restore it to about two weeks ago.
*Blue Screen of Death*
=_____=
Restore it to a month ago.
*Blue Screen of Death*
asklfjagiwrg!!
Scheduled a disc check for (C:)
*Blue Screen of Death*
Another boot-time scan. (Which takes another 2 hours). No viruses.
*Blue Screen of Death*
MOTHERFUCKER.
Uninstalled a corrupt file and deleted it
*Blue Screen of Death*
Nearly 9 hours later
*Blue Screen of Death*
Screw this shit. And don't ask me to format, because I don't have the installation CD and clearly I'm an idiot for not making a system rescue cd. Which I will do at the next opportunity when mr.laptop DOESN'T have an emotional breakdown.
Seriously, up until this point of my life, the most I've ever had to do is click a button to run a virus scan. Then click another button to delete.
Clearly my laptop is having jealousy issues. It's watching me use Ipod and Phone (read: not Iphone) and the computers at uni and it's getting upset because I don't lug it to uni like every other business student.
WELL I'M SORRY, BUT I'M PUNY AND WEAK AND I CAN'T CARRY YOU ALL DAY.
But really it's probably the virus has gotten too far into the system and I'll have to format and buy another copy of Windows 7.
Or a new laptop.
If only they made macbooks in black again...
(Please don't get mad at me and explode, I was joking about the new laptop, really!)
((No I wasn't.))
Thursday, June 9, 2011
If I Could Be Anyone
If I had a thousand lifetimes to chose from, I would choose this one.
If I had one day to live, I could spend all of eternity remembering each moment.
If I could, I would live a single moment as you, and a lifetime as me.
Just because I'm curious, you see.
If I had one day to live, I could spend all of eternity remembering each moment.
If I could, I would live a single moment as you, and a lifetime as me.
Just because I'm curious, you see.
Draw Me A Map
Draw me a map to a place I can't name
Forget how and why, we're too young to care, too careless to heed
Take a photograph, to remember each not-line
In twenty-three years, let's look back on our glory days
Send me a message in a bottle, washed out to sea
No one is home, but the thought counts at least
Write me a bedtime story with fairies and wolves
With no good or evil, no plot or lines
And sing me a song with words from a tree.
Forget how and why, we're too young to care, too careless to heed
Take a photograph, to remember each not-line
In twenty-three years, let's look back on our glory days
Send me a message in a bottle, washed out to sea
No one is home, but the thought counts at least
Write me a bedtime story with fairies and wolves
With no good or evil, no plot or lines
And sing me a song with words from a tree.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Meet Me On The Star Ferry
Don't fly me to the moon
But instead, wait with me by the stars
They're just pretty words
But the lights from my window count, right?
A tiny speck
But so what
Let's not give up
But throw our backs into it like Sisyphus.
Meet me on the star ferry
To reach the stars outside my window.
("Meet me on the star ferry" is a nail polish color from OPI lol)
But instead, wait with me by the stars
They're just pretty words
But the lights from my window count, right?
A tiny speck
But so what
Let's not give up
But throw our backs into it like Sisyphus.
Meet me on the star ferry
To reach the stars outside my window.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
"On The Roof Of A 13-Floor Building, I Closed My Eyes And Talked With God"
Reckless
In a brash and loud and colorful way, that fades when the numbers pile up
But if for example, we were reckless
nothing would change
because we're quiet rebels.
Why is it that I like high places
and the smoke curling from the end of a bad influence.
It's not like I believe in anything
though,
I want to stand on a rooftop
and watch everything move
Maybe I'd find
when
"On the roof of 13-floor building, I closed my eyes and talked with God"
It's just me, talking to myself.
Based on a quotation from
Panorama - Plastic Tree
In a brash and loud and colorful way, that fades when the numbers pile up
But if for example, we were reckless
nothing would change
because we're quiet rebels.
Why is it that I like high places
and the smoke curling from the end of a bad influence.
It's not like I believe in anything
though,
I want to stand on a rooftop
and watch everything move
Maybe I'd find
when
"On the roof of 13-floor building, I closed my eyes and talked with God"
It's just me, talking to myself.
Based on a quotation from
Panorama - Plastic Tree
Monday, June 6, 2011
I'm Falling But I Can't Decide Which Way
I want to reinvent myself again. To hide behind another name.
Sometimes being alone messes with your sensibilities.
But being with others messes with your sense of what you are and who you want to be.
To what end do I want to be who I think I am?
It's that vague feeling of, I'm not quite fine and the world isn't all great - but hey, what's the name of that problem and why is it here at all?
I've broken two picks and I've broken my skin.
I want to record my youth in the sounds of piano keys.
With the notes of the one and only song I can (and want to) play.
If I push the sustain, maybe I can make things last longer here too.
I want a purpose and I think I know what it is.
But it's all down to me and I can't remember who I want you to be.
Let's sit inside while it rains and play until our bones break apart
Only, I can't quite see who you are in this dream and maybe you're not there at all.
But I guess it's ok, if I could switch "normal" off and on.
Find me so I can lose myself.
Sometimes being alone messes with your sensibilities.
But being with others messes with your sense of what you are and who you want to be.
To what end do I want to be who I think I am?
It's that vague feeling of, I'm not quite fine and the world isn't all great - but hey, what's the name of that problem and why is it here at all?
I've broken two picks and I've broken my skin.
I want to record my youth in the sounds of piano keys.
With the notes of the one and only song I can (and want to) play.
If I push the sustain, maybe I can make things last longer here too.
I want a purpose and I think I know what it is.
But it's all down to me and I can't remember who I want you to be.
Let's sit inside while it rains and play until our bones break apart
Only, I can't quite see who you are in this dream and maybe you're not there at all.
But I guess it's ok, if I could switch "normal" off and on.
Find me so I can lose myself.
Picture:
Aoi / The Gazette
Monday, May 30, 2011
With "Want" and "Wish" In Their Eyes
When all your problems seem insurmountable and you're facing a giant wall of "why me" and self-pity,
There's someone else out there who would give almost anything to be you.
Might be the girl in your math class who's failing, might be the guy on that bus who's parents won't let him back home.
Might be the teacher who's lost his youth somewhere along the way, or the old lady on the street who has to go home to an empty house.
To them, maybe you stand on a platform higher than they, and they watch you with "want" and "wish" in their eyes.
Doesn't that put things into perspective?
There's someone else out there who would give almost anything to be you.
Might be the girl in your math class who's failing, might be the guy on that bus who's parents won't let him back home.
Might be the teacher who's lost his youth somewhere along the way, or the old lady on the street who has to go home to an empty house.
To them, maybe you stand on a platform higher than they, and they watch you with "want" and "wish" in their eyes.
Doesn't that put things into perspective?
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Ask Me Seriously
Sometimes I wish time would stop because it's hard to realise that this moment is going to end and so will the next and the next and there is no forever.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Maybe Slightly, Just A Little Bit Wonderful.
You look that way, and you like certain things.
You do reckless things and smoke all the time;
standing almost defiantly in higher spaces [because the out-of-the-way corner you liked got "renovated" away.]
You're kind of awkward sometimes,
I wonder if it's because of the way people sometimes give you funny looks.
I wonder if that's why you sometimes satirize yourself [don't] with that ironic twist of your mouth.
Sometimes I forget that you are, really, rather strange looking.
We're kinda the same.
Only really, we're not.
Because I'm not brave enough to be myself like you are yourself.
So I wear a pick necklace and old-band shirts, while you wear yours on your skin and breathe it out.
People give us funny looks.
Only, they're probably for different reasons.
But you still stand on your perch, with no remorse.
Because you are who you are.
And I think, you are the most interesting person I have ever met.
And that perhaps,
You are maybe slightly, just a little bit wonderful.
Someday, when I get around to it
I'll tell you.
Because I have never met a vegetarian metalhead, with dreadlocks and tattoos, and a masters in Philosophy, who works on questions in pubs, smokes like a chimney, wears a different band shirt every day of the week, and gives out 60/100 because its 2 in the morning and they can't be fucked marking wrong answers any more.
Screw what other people think of you.
You are brilliant.
And mine is the only opinion that matters.
Picture credits: unknown, sorry.
You do reckless things and smoke all the time;
standing almost defiantly in higher spaces [because the out-of-the-way corner you liked got "renovated" away.]
You're kind of awkward sometimes,
I wonder if it's because of the way people sometimes give you funny looks.
I wonder if that's why you sometimes satirize yourself [don't] with that ironic twist of your mouth.
Sometimes I forget that you are, really, rather strange looking.
We're kinda the same.
Only really, we're not.
Because I'm not brave enough to be myself like you are yourself.
So I wear a pick necklace and old-band shirts, while you wear yours on your skin and breathe it out.
People give us funny looks.
Only, they're probably for different reasons.
But you still stand on your perch, with no remorse.
Because you are who you are.
And I think, you are the most interesting person I have ever met.
And that perhaps,
You are maybe slightly, just a little bit wonderful.
Someday, when I get around to it
I'll tell you.
Because I have never met a vegetarian metalhead, with dreadlocks and tattoos, and a masters in Philosophy, who works on questions in pubs, smokes like a chimney, wears a different band shirt every day of the week, and gives out 60/100 because its 2 in the morning and they can't be fucked marking wrong answers any more.
Screw what other people think of you.
You are brilliant.
And mine is the only opinion that matters.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
To Create Good Memories...
I want to do something special for my birthday this year.
I'll have a few weeks break around June - July, and my birthday is the weekend of the first week back at uni.
I'm thinking of going overseas. But I'm not sure what to do...
I'll have a few weeks break around June - July, and my birthday is the weekend of the first week back at uni.
I'm thinking of going overseas. But I'm not sure what to do...
- Dreamworld, waterfront hotels and smoking on beaches at night in Australia.
- Working, saving, ESPs and poetic justice with PS Company Tour 2011 in Japan. (mid-July)
- Midnight flights after exams, long-admired basses and Plastic Tree Summer Tour 2011 in Japan. (22 June)
- Reliving things, shopping and awkward situations in China.
- Redoing things properly, family and Chinatown in SF/LA in California.
- New things, photography and cabs in New York.
- Squandering time and money, meeting friends and smoking on beaches at night in Wellington, NZ.
- Wasting money, "living it up while you can" and spinning statues in Auckland, NZ.
- Hotel room with all-night-long-movie-marathon and room service in the morning with friends.
- Drinking and clubbing and losing my mind.
- Practicing music until my fingers bleed and I can't feel these bones anymore.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
New Years Eve 11:44pm 2010
Two years ago, I wished for happiness, last year I wished for no regrets. For the coming year, I want to improve. I want to become someone I am happy with. I want to improve everything.
I still procrastinate, I still feel sad. But slowly I hope to succeed beyond these traits.
I will do as much as I can, because that is all I can do.
Right now, I am tired and it is hard to think. Because this year was really wonderful (mosty), perhaps I am still clinging to it.
Next year, I want to turn around and say "I did well this year", and "I am satisfied with what I've accomplished".
Last year, I said I would no onger let life's opportunities pass me by, that I wanted to do something with my life. I said "Don't hesitate and Go, you only have one life, so live every day with no regrets."
Looking back, I am proud of what I have accomplished, of what I have learned, of who I have turned into. I studied well, I fell, it hurt, I got to work and I made some money. But above all, I made good memories.
Beautiful memories.
This year will be the next step:
DON'T HESITATE AND GO FORWARD.
Because each small step means no regrets, and improvement and becoming something better than what I am.
["don't hesitate and go" borrowed from Miyavi]
I still procrastinate, I still feel sad. But slowly I hope to succeed beyond these traits.
I will do as much as I can, because that is all I can do.
Right now, I am tired and it is hard to think. Because this year was really wonderful (mosty), perhaps I am still clinging to it.
Next year, I want to turn around and say "I did well this year", and "I am satisfied with what I've accomplished".
Last year, I said I would no onger let life's opportunities pass me by, that I wanted to do something with my life. I said "Don't hesitate and Go, you only have one life, so live every day with no regrets."
Looking back, I am proud of what I have accomplished, of what I have learned, of who I have turned into. I studied well, I fell, it hurt, I got to work and I made some money. But above all, I made good memories.
Beautiful memories.
This year will be the next step:
DON'T HESITATE AND GO FORWARD.
Because each small step means no regrets, and improvement and becoming something better than what I am.
["don't hesitate and go" borrowed from Miyavi]
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Assignments Are Kicking My Ass
*insert deeply resigned expression*
[Uruha]
The Gazette: Making of Shiikureta Haru, Kawarenu Haru
The Gazette: Making of Shiikureta Haru, Kawarenu Haru
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Epiphone v Gibson PART II
Haha. I knew this would happen eventually.
The "e" on my Epiphone's pickguard came off for the second time a few days ago, and it's come loose again.
It's a very common problem with the Dot in particular, and I saw it happen a lot when I was reading reviews and trying to decide which guitar to buy.
Well, personally I like the 'e'; although I know some people rip it off so their Dots will look more like ES 335s, but I don't get that. An Epiphone is an Epiphone, why try to make it look like something it isn't? I wanted the Epiphone more than the Gibson, same reason I want the Edwards/Grassroots more than the ESP.
Here's a long-winded explanation why:
You see, one day, while I was wandering around looking for a good coat last autumn, I ended up in a nice, rather swanky part of town. And in this part of town were nice cars. Very nice cars.
I turned a corner and there was a black Alfa Romeo Spider 1 turning the corner badly. Very badly.
Do you know why? There were learner plates on the thing.
Learner plates. On an Alfa.
ON an Alfa.
On an ALFA.
It's... just... why... you... just...
There are no words.
I know, I know, if you have the money, if you want it, just do it.
Which is fair enough...but...
Frankly, knowing that I'm not very good and buying a guitar is one thing, but knowing I'm not very good and buying an extremely expensive, rare, beautiful guitar is another.
I feel like I can't do it justice.
It's like buying a $50,000 Steinway Grand Piano when you can only play Greensleeves.
Or driving an Alfa Romeo Spider 1 when you're on your learner's license.
It's a waste of a beautiful thing.
I like the Dot. I like that I can't really play all that well, and sometimes it does that annoying buzzing thing when I don't bar properly. And I like knowing that the same thing would happen on the Gibson anyway, because it's all down to how I play it.
The instrument is only an instrument. If you're no good, no great instrument is going to make you any better. Trying to compensate with a great instrument is futile.
"Great artists can make beautiful art with even the worst of tools."
My dad told me that when I used to blame my violin (it was actually total shit though).
The Dot is good enough for me. One day, when I get really good, I might upgrade. But who knows? I like the Dot. It's very unassuming. It does its things quietly, without trying to live up to its older brother.
I'm quite proud it's a Dot, and not an ES 335.
Which is why my Dot is lying on my bed, with it's 'e' glued back on, and two books on it to try and flatten the damn thing because it keeps coming off on one end or another. (I switched to some binder clips because the books weren't working)
The "e" on my Epiphone's pickguard came off for the second time a few days ago, and it's come loose again.
It's a very common problem with the Dot in particular, and I saw it happen a lot when I was reading reviews and trying to decide which guitar to buy.
Well, personally I like the 'e'; although I know some people rip it off so their Dots will look more like ES 335s, but I don't get that. An Epiphone is an Epiphone, why try to make it look like something it isn't? I wanted the Epiphone more than the Gibson, same reason I want the Edwards/Grassroots more than the ESP.
Here's a long-winded explanation why:
You see, one day, while I was wandering around looking for a good coat last autumn, I ended up in a nice, rather swanky part of town. And in this part of town were nice cars. Very nice cars.
I turned a corner and there was a black Alfa Romeo Spider 1 turning the corner badly. Very badly.
Do you know why? There were learner plates on the thing.
Learner plates. On an Alfa.
ON an Alfa.
On an ALFA.
It's... just... why... you... just...
There are no words.
I know, I know, if you have the money, if you want it, just do it.
Which is fair enough...but...
Frankly, knowing that I'm not very good and buying a guitar is one thing, but knowing I'm not very good and buying an extremely expensive, rare, beautiful guitar is another.
I feel like I can't do it justice.
It's like buying a $50,000 Steinway Grand Piano when you can only play Greensleeves.
Or driving an Alfa Romeo Spider 1 when you're on your learner's license.
It's a waste of a beautiful thing.
I like the Dot. I like that I can't really play all that well, and sometimes it does that annoying buzzing thing when I don't bar properly. And I like knowing that the same thing would happen on the Gibson anyway, because it's all down to how I play it.
The instrument is only an instrument. If you're no good, no great instrument is going to make you any better. Trying to compensate with a great instrument is futile.
"Great artists can make beautiful art with even the worst of tools."
My dad told me that when I used to blame my violin (it was actually total shit though).
The Dot is good enough for me. One day, when I get really good, I might upgrade. But who knows? I like the Dot. It's very unassuming. It does its things quietly, without trying to live up to its older brother.
I'm quite proud it's a Dot, and not an ES 335.
Which is why my Dot is lying on my bed, with it's 'e' glued back on, and two books on it to try and flatten the damn thing because it keeps coming off on one end or another. (I switched to some binder clips because the books weren't working)
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Fallacies 1 [Philosophy Test Practice]
"If you hate her so much, why are you watching her video?"
- Ad Hominem Circumstantial.
"Excuse me, but my IQ is 162, I'm a member of MENSA, I know what I'm talking about."
- Failure of Relevance (Even if it is relevant, it's implausible to assume that an IQ of 162 means that a person is able to definitively decide if a musical performance is good or not).
- Ad Hominem Circumstantial.
"Excuse me, but my IQ is 162, I'm a member of MENSA, I know what I'm talking about."
- Failure of Relevance (Even if it is relevant, it's implausible to assume that an IQ of 162 means that a person is able to definitively decide if a musical performance is good or not).
Monday, May 2, 2011
You'll Gather Them When No One Is Looking
It happens, from time to time. Something unpleasant that rips open old memories, or rips open new wounds, that feels like it's slapped you, stinging, across the face.
But that's ok. You have coping mechanisms. Eating ice cream. Watching the birds. Listening to music.
They don't take the pain away, but they can dull it, just a little. Enough for it to be bearable, enough for you to pretend you are ok. They can hold it back just long enough, until you can quietly pick up the pieces when no one is watching you.
And you'll pause over each piece. You'll remember how you laughed on that day, or how you smiled when such and such happened. Sometimes those pieces don't exist yet. But they are still memories, even if they are fairy-stories you made in your mind.
And then, you will quietly, quietly, put the pieces aside, until you have a little pile.
And you'll see that the pile isn't really so big after all. Not all-consuming like you thought it was.
It's such a shame. They were beautiful memories. When did they fade and dull and become so small?
But slowly, you will make progress. Each small piece will be delicately placed in the pile when you are ready. Sometimes you'll pick one up and turn it over in your hands and marvel at the way it used to make you feel.
It doesn't quite feel the same anymore, does it?
But that's ok. You'll gather them slowly, slowly, at your own pace. You'll gather them when no one is looking, and you'll get stronger because those pieces are heavy and painful.
And it will be so quiet that only you will hear the sounds.
Picture:
有村 竜太郎
プラスティック・トゥリー
But that's ok. You have coping mechanisms. Eating ice cream. Watching the birds. Listening to music.
They don't take the pain away, but they can dull it, just a little. Enough for it to be bearable, enough for you to pretend you are ok. They can hold it back just long enough, until you can quietly pick up the pieces when no one is watching you.
And you'll pause over each piece. You'll remember how you laughed on that day, or how you smiled when such and such happened. Sometimes those pieces don't exist yet. But they are still memories, even if they are fairy-stories you made in your mind.
And then, you will quietly, quietly, put the pieces aside, until you have a little pile.
And you'll see that the pile isn't really so big after all. Not all-consuming like you thought it was.
It's such a shame. They were beautiful memories. When did they fade and dull and become so small?
But slowly, you will make progress. Each small piece will be delicately placed in the pile when you are ready. Sometimes you'll pick one up and turn it over in your hands and marvel at the way it used to make you feel.
It doesn't quite feel the same anymore, does it?
But that's ok. You'll gather them slowly, slowly, at your own pace. You'll gather them when no one is looking, and you'll get stronger because those pieces are heavy and painful.
And it will be so quiet that only you will hear the sounds.
有村 竜太郎
プラスティック・トゥリー
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Not Who You'd Think...
Of everyone in this video, I look up to the guy trying to fix the mike.
If I could be anyone, I'd be him.
MYV ROCKS DVD
雅-miyavi-
If I could be anyone, I'd be him.
MYV ROCKS DVD
雅-miyavi-
I Got My Epiphone
I got my Epiphone.
And a practice amp. And a hard case. And a stand. And the leads. And a tuner. And half a dozen straps. And picks.
I also swapped out the brass/yellow coloured knobs for black/silver ones.
It's stunning. Ridiculously heavy (or I just lack upper body strength), but stunning.
Even though my room is a shoebox, the hardcase is now behind my acoustic (in its case), and the Dot is on its stand (even though this means I can barely manoeuvre). It's the first thing I see when I enter my room.
Some friends and I drove to another part of our city to pick it up. It only took about 20 minutes to get there, I was surprised.
I made them listen to Nausea & Shudder and Local God by Everclear along the way.
The store was a lot smaller than the one I'm used to going to. I decided to go to this store because they already had the dot in store and I thought the road trip was a fun idea.
Also, I'm not sure why, but they gave me a better price than any of the other stores I called - even though the other stores are owned and managed by the same people.
Either way, I'm satisfied, even though my fingers are burning from over-practise.
And a practice amp. And a hard case. And a stand. And the leads. And a tuner. And half a dozen straps. And picks.
I also swapped out the brass/yellow coloured knobs for black/silver ones.
It's stunning. Ridiculously heavy (or I just lack upper body strength), but stunning.
Even though my room is a shoebox, the hardcase is now behind my acoustic (in its case), and the Dot is on its stand (even though this means I can barely manoeuvre). It's the first thing I see when I enter my room.
Some friends and I drove to another part of our city to pick it up. It only took about 20 minutes to get there, I was surprised.
I made them listen to Nausea & Shudder and Local God by Everclear along the way.
The store was a lot smaller than the one I'm used to going to. I decided to go to this store because they already had the dot in store and I thought the road trip was a fun idea.
Also, I'm not sure why, but they gave me a better price than any of the other stores I called - even though the other stores are owned and managed by the same people.
Either way, I'm satisfied, even though my fingers are burning from over-practise.
Friday, April 29, 2011
"Yes, I Will Pick It Up Tomorrow."
Tomorrow is the day I buy my Epiphone.
みらいいろ/ Mirai Iro
プラスティック・トゥリー/ Plastic Tree
プラスティック・トゥリー/ Plastic Tree
Dances With Mops In Library Carparks
Our breaths fog the windows of this little red car.
As always, there is licorice and ginger beer, pretzels and cake. Come tomorrow, we'll still find crumbs in our pockets, in the seat, on the roof, in our hair.
It's winter now, and although it's never white where we are, it's ok because we're never warm enough anyway. That's why the heater is on full blast.
We'll play bad dance music on our Ipods - lamenting the loss of the CD player - and reminisce about how we used to dance at night in summer, I would watch, and you would dance with the mops and brooms.
We don't really discuss anything worthwhile. I amuse myself with drawing on the window while you bitch about someone at work. "Yeah, that guy, I hate him too", I agree.
"We're having kinky sex, wish you were here?"
When did I start becoming so perverted?
We never really accomplish anything. At some point, we'll drive to your house, and we'll sit in your living room - at the table that's been there since you were born - and we'll drink tea and eat cake.
Or rather, you'll eat cake, because you know how I can't stomach sugar and you take it away from me before I can eat it anyway.
I'll flip idly through a magazine about something and nothing in particular while your voices drift over my head, and I'll catch pieces of another conversation.
Sometimes I feel like I should join in, but I know you don't mind when I space out.
Someone always starts talking about how they miss summer nights, when we would sit outside and watch fireworks and make a bonfire. A really puny bonfire, I think.
"I like winter more," I add.
"I know you do," you'll say.
Sometimes I'll join in too, and we'll laugh ourselves silly. Anyone else would stare at us, wild gestures and expressions. They wouldn't understand that you have different faces, and these hand gestures are because I've painted my nails with stars. Face 1 is scorn. Face 2 is disapproval. Face 3 is when you laugh like you'll explode.
Sometimes I will sink into a quiet silence. I'll pick at books that are strewn about, or pick at a piece of cake I can't eat. You always take pity on me and make me toast.
Conversation never wavers, even though I drop in and out. It's like we adjust to make room for each other's habits. Habits that we know so well they might as well be our own.
So when you start waving your hands about, I know you're getting frustrated and I'll change the topic.
And when you start flicking your hair with irritation like that, I know you want to go and do something.
And when you start tapping at the table, I know you're probably thinking about someone.
I wonder what habits I have? If I asked you, you probably won't be able to tell me.
But when I look, I notice that there's always something salty in the shopping basket (we spend too much time in Foodtown), you always look at me funny when I say I'm fine and you always say my favourite line:
"That's just who you are."
These are the things I want to remember us by.
As always, there is licorice and ginger beer, pretzels and cake. Come tomorrow, we'll still find crumbs in our pockets, in the seat, on the roof, in our hair.
It's winter now, and although it's never white where we are, it's ok because we're never warm enough anyway. That's why the heater is on full blast.
We'll play bad dance music on our Ipods - lamenting the loss of the CD player - and reminisce about how we used to dance at night in summer, I would watch, and you would dance with the mops and brooms.
We don't really discuss anything worthwhile. I amuse myself with drawing on the window while you bitch about someone at work. "Yeah, that guy, I hate him too", I agree.
"We're having kinky sex, wish you were here?"
When did I start becoming so perverted?
We never really accomplish anything. At some point, we'll drive to your house, and we'll sit in your living room - at the table that's been there since you were born - and we'll drink tea and eat cake.
Or rather, you'll eat cake, because you know how I can't stomach sugar and you take it away from me before I can eat it anyway.
I'll flip idly through a magazine about something and nothing in particular while your voices drift over my head, and I'll catch pieces of another conversation.
Sometimes I feel like I should join in, but I know you don't mind when I space out.
Someone always starts talking about how they miss summer nights, when we would sit outside and watch fireworks and make a bonfire. A really puny bonfire, I think.
"I like winter more," I add.
"I know you do," you'll say.
Sometimes I'll join in too, and we'll laugh ourselves silly. Anyone else would stare at us, wild gestures and expressions. They wouldn't understand that you have different faces, and these hand gestures are because I've painted my nails with stars. Face 1 is scorn. Face 2 is disapproval. Face 3 is when you laugh like you'll explode.
Sometimes I will sink into a quiet silence. I'll pick at books that are strewn about, or pick at a piece of cake I can't eat. You always take pity on me and make me toast.
Conversation never wavers, even though I drop in and out. It's like we adjust to make room for each other's habits. Habits that we know so well they might as well be our own.
So when you start waving your hands about, I know you're getting frustrated and I'll change the topic.
And when you start flicking your hair with irritation like that, I know you want to go and do something.
And when you start tapping at the table, I know you're probably thinking about someone.
I wonder what habits I have? If I asked you, you probably won't be able to tell me.
But when I look, I notice that there's always something salty in the shopping basket (we spend too much time in Foodtown), you always look at me funny when I say I'm fine and you always say my favourite line:
"That's just who you are."
These are the things I want to remember us by.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Stars Will Go Around And Tomorrow Will Come
"If you can chase your dreams with all your might, it's ok if sometimes all falters.
For the stars will go around and tomorrow will come."
"Nobody knows what the distant future looks like
"Tomorrow" is what you seize today."
Break Down
ギルガメッシュ
Trips And Guitars, Purple Basses and Grassroots.
Despite many years of business majors and accounting papers, this year I realised what my dream really is.
To be honest, I am terrified of working in an office or a company, of climbing the corporate ladder. The idea of being a manager or director scares the bejesus out of me.
I think I would like to give the dreams I had when I was 14 a shot.
It all starts and ends with music.
But don't worry mom and dad, I don't want to be a musician.
To be honest, I am terrified of working in an office or a company, of climbing the corporate ladder. The idea of being a manager or director scares the bejesus out of me.
I think I would like to give the dreams I had when I was 14 a shot.
It all starts and ends with music.
But don't worry mom and dad, I don't want to be a musician.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Nuclear Boy; Hang In There
Uploaded by GenkiRadio on Youtube.com on 16 Mar 2011
Original upload by http://www.youtube.com/user/onaradaijobu
Translation by http://www.shibatabread.com
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Epiphone v Gibson
Plastic Tree - Hanamoete
Ryutaro Arimura
プラスティック・トゥリー 「花燃えて」
有村竜太郎
EDIT: My bad, that's an Epiphone Casino. Point still stands. He can play a Gibson, but he goes with Epiphone. Good man.
Friday, April 22, 2011
So Thin/ Sometime Next Tuesday
He was so thin, the kind of thin that comes from living a reckless life with no heed for taking care of oneself. A life of immediate gratification without any fear or thought of the consequences that come with tomorrow. Wrists and arms that seem to fade to nothing, shoulders that jut out and ribs that slightly show beneath plain t-shirts that no one else could possibly wear - no, own - like that.
And yet still, he slings that guitar around like it weighs nothing with an energy that burns you out the moment you take a breath. So you know that the minute he steps off that bare-yet-hallowed stage, he'll collapse and awaken sometime next tuesday.
But that's not a bad thing, because it means that he throws everything he has at this, at music. Doesn't that make you smile? Make you believe that there are people in this world who care, who believe in their dreams and who have something, anything to live for.
He runs and staggers and dances and sways and god, doesn't everyone look at him like he's some kind of deity? Oh, but isn't that exactly what he is? On this stage, in this crowded noisy, burning live house, with eyes in the crowd blazing with a desire that can't be named, he's basked in a glow that gods crave.
So maybe he's just human any place else, with problems and obstacles and things that just don't work. But not here.
In years to come, I will remember him as the reason I play the guitar, draw eyeliner too thick and paint my bass a purple from my dreams. I will remember him for the way I care about everything and believe in my dreams and how I, small and insignificant as I am, have something to live for.
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So many people out there that play instruments and sing well yet this UGLY bitch is famous?"
- Ad Hominem Abusive.
From Youtube.
See? I was totally studying. And you thought I was just watching videos.