Thursday, December 29, 2011

Suffering the consequences of hedonism

I indulged in a tad too much happy over the festive season. Started the week on whites accompanied with a gorgeous cheese platter which carried through to several kinds of red, JD's Black Label, Frangelico, Absolut Vodka and Bailey's to name a few, ingested mixed, mulled, neat, on rocks and in pasta. Played 2 rounds of Scrabble over tea and more wine.

As expected, the rashes are now coming out to play.

Monday, December 26, 2011


Escapism is not always bad. It is neither always cowardice nor always fear that initiates the mode of flight over fight. Truly, serendipity and madness follow hand-in-hand in the pursuit of escape in such a way as to reap much unplanned benefit from propelling one's self uninhibited to execute impulsive thought otherwise unimaginable, or even if not unimaginable, previously unimportant or inconsequential to one's sense of achievement.

I quite like escapism. It has sent me across the world and then some, inundating my soul with (some might say) useless philosophy which though conceptualised and understood, plays little part in the reality of my life. My life is at best, disjuncted; a series of accidents that stumble unprepared into the next phase and the only thing keeping the momentum going (besides God and many would say in spite of) is adrenaline fueled by wanting to discover what lies over the horizon. Though experience tells me each horizon reveals a hue closer to tangible reality than fancy or fantasy and though with each passing horizon, my mind becomes more disillusioned, there is still an urgency to press on at cost to myself for the present is expectantly marked by foreboding uncertainty, sending ears twitching nervously and feet itching to flee.

You will find no leaping, graceful, sure-footed gazelle here, only a curiousity, appearing saturated to some and void to another, seeking to satiate mindlust.

Friday, December 23, 2011

Prepping the Crimson Cow

The festive marathon has just about started and already I have red wine spilled on printed chiffon. "Go with the flow" seems to be the motto of the season but a suitcase of unsatisfied Christmasses counters heavy against the urge to move forward. Presents bought and sealed appear a wasted effort and detachment is its weight in gold. Appropriation is both sought and deflected, wishful yet rejected.

Occasionally, the internal organ pipes up and jaunty steps signal possible regrowth and positive action.

Christmas is perfect for spending the long weekend wallowing in utter misery, with enough ammo to make Ebenezer feel like a wet hen left out in the cold.

Happiness in all its forms is gloriously addictive, so much so that the worst things are committed in pursuit of the illusion.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011


I'm sad that my Zoloft is going to be neutered tonight :'( Could drown my sorrows in chocolate.

Christmas Day plans

My parents have planned to open house. Being the ever-dutiful daughter that I am, I will help see to it that their plans come to fruition. This has so far included setting up the Christmas tree with generous amounts of "snow" which will nonchalantly float into cups of orange squash reminding people of the wrong reason for Christmas ala Sinter Klaus.

Ideally, my Christmas would look a little different. A game of Scrabble over Cadbury Light's Peppermint Hot Chocolate, wearing fuzzy socks, sitting in an air-conditioned room, listening to Linkin Park or Lite fm... something to that effect.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Psycho what?

Editor's note: An additional essay in brief on INTPs here

Took up the Myers-Briggs test again this year for the fun of it. The last time I put myself through the paces was recorded here.

There has been no change from the last instance and my equilibrium is somewhat buoyant at INTP. It has become less incredulous that a different vowel precedes my intuition (N) these days and I wear my absentminded perception (P) with a pride which my proverbial poker-in-arse Judging (J) persona would have dismissed as lazy. Having said that, remnants of the J must still be around, lingering somewhere on my person as there have been times when I've had to remove the said poker to accommodate characters I would have otherwise point-blank refused to talk to.

To find out if your lifestyle is killing you your personality, you can risk your hand here.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Once again

The worst of the emo-ness is over for now. As I knew it would be. As it has always been. As it will be to come. But it still sucks having to ride it out even though positive, affirmative lessons are also always learnt. A love-hate relationship with myself.

Oh, and accidentally bought CHERRY flavoured Diet Coke. Disgusting.

Looking forward to karaoke.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Two cents worth of Sensitivity and Sensibility

Yes, mine to give
Yet I will grieve
For having trusted
Too soon too true

Mine to withhold
Yet truth be told
I would rather readily
Give it to you

Mine to provide
Yet kept on the side
Not wanting but wanting
To see if you too

Compassion abounds
You do wear that crown
Too many around
And not just us two

So goodbye my lover
Goodbye my friend
Goodbye to an ending
That never began

Farewell my brother
Godspeed again
A deep breath in the winter
Find a safe place to land

Not my time

It is taking too long
And yet not time yet
Not much more now
Still a good way yet
Same old story
Different faces
Same old pain
Different spaces
Never changing
Always wishing
Only dreams
Pushing through
Forcing boundaries
Facing paths
Forging means
Tumble, fall
Bruised and small
Rage, unrest
Why give my best?

Because though it may seem foolish
Though it may look untrue
Though the world may laugh and scorn
As they did at you
Not that life is perfect
Nor that it'll ever be
Not that dreams uncovered
Will fulfill my destiny
Not that hope, forgiveness
Will satisfy my soul
Nor that giving everything
Will dry the tears that fall 
Not that I am the centre
Of any worth at all
Not that I understand
Or even comprehend
But because you have so giveth
It's not longer I that liveth

The mess and the mire
The deeds burned in fire
The judgment call will sound
That despite my weakness 
I may be found

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Kisses for you

Found at
Kisses for you
Kisses for me
Kisses that rain down
From the sycamore tree

Kisses for him 
Kisses for her
Under the mistletoe
In drunken stupor

Kisses for them
Kisses for us
Flirty and light
Dark, dangerous

Kisses for all
Kisses for none
A kiss to betray
Unravel, undone

Kisses for you
Kisses for me
At Golgotha's Hill
From Calvary's Tree

Bah Humbug

Humbug: A slavish concern for the composition of words is the sign of a bankrupt intellect. Be gone, odious wasp! You smell of decayed syllables. (The Phantom Tollbooth)

But I really do like obsessing over mixing-and-matching long words!

Friday, December 09, 2011

That time again

Christmas wishlist for the year includes:-

1) Wellies (Damien Hirst inspired)
2) The Duck that Won the Lottery (Julian Baggini)
3) More horse figurines
4) Goo Goo Dolls CD (Dizzy Up the Girl)
5) Vladimir Kush works
6) Blueberry frozen yoghurt
7) A Westin Heavenly bed
8) Massage (kinks in right shoulder blade)
9) A Kenwood food processor-mixer
10) Anything Molten Brown
11) A Celtic/Tribal-inspired horse design for my right shoulder blade