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"the Silence rotted, molded, and eventually fossilised"
Past page 325 of Vandermeer's City of Saints and Madmen and the page-counting ceases ( Read more... ) -
xii
I have not come this far just to fall. I came with the expectation of flight. -
quotation-notes from
Literary Theory: A Very Short Introduction, by Jonathan Culler ( Read more... ) -
but you better know how to point out the liars
The weather is blistering, and I wager every time I venture outside the air-conditioned shell of the modern double-glass-doored corporate office a bit is cut off the ribbon of my lifespan. It takes courage and no less energy to weather the...weather, surely. Trudging determinedly with an umbrella on my way to lunch I consider tropical vampires with ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I have started listening to KOKIA's music. Also this mix, which helps with the sleeping portion of daily life. The thinking I have Emma's Imagination to thank.
Shiawase no Pan is the anodyne to an afternoon of too much sun when I can't go out. It's one of those films which makes one ponder seriously about the beauty of simple lives and opening a ( Read more... ) -
a condition, commotion, commodity.
Putting a name to it. Is it trends?
It stirs up the public and they stare involuntarily. Hello, Hot, Who and their ensuing drivel; I ought to restrain myself from placing the irons of judgement on any one (and any) thing, but there are few things more sorry or more stirring of the soul than helplessness. Fish on the line, we all are to varying ( Read more... ) -
caught you in my eyes.
It has been two months. Liberation - a tremendous whooshing feeling, an Icarus sensation the minute he took to the skies; liberation insidious, liberation unintended. Unexpected freedom, boundless; like a currency one knows not what to do with it after the temporal toying with ideas.
Much of my mathematical abilities have decomposed, degraded, worn ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
"Great grief is a divine and terrible radiance which transfigures the wretched"
-Victor Hugo -
train crash.
How do bestsellers come about? A book that hooks the imagination or the herd mentality? Or a potent mixture of both?
This afternoon I glimpsed a Northlight School girl and her tiny sister trudging across the road with the green light blazing. No car in sight, but still. Would she be holding her hand in Death?
I fear breaking rules when crossing the ( Read more... ) -
to write promises.
I am dead, but to entertain and surprise everyone, I get up and dance.
I have read Lesle Lewis' Lie Down Too. I cannot figure out if I should treat it as literature or a jumbled collection of sentences arbitrarily assigned a title.
Will writing ever be productive? It is only when walking through a library on tiptoe or leafing through a driving theory ( Read more... )