Monday 7/12/2004 [blogging; pure thoughts or blah?] : insane

Someone used to say that a blog is a reflection of the blogger's persona. The purest form of one's thoughts..
How do i.. what do they call it? BLOG!? So far i've been doing up different versions of "blogging" or so i think.. Let me show you..

(1)confession-type entries, i suck in life and i'm typing all this so that other people can judge me by my entries, or the this is how my life went today, wish you could be here even though you don't know who i am entries..

(2)the rattling into cyberspace using words only found in the deeper regions of the dictionary..

(3)the rattling into cyberspace using words NOT found in the dictionary,

(4)the "hey i am who i am therefore i am cause i like watching grass grow and you know that grass is the most fascinating thing on earth and they actually come from earth or did the martians have something to do with it" entry, hmm.. what else do i have. oh yeah a classical one where the blogger,

(5)inspired and blogs away about how numbers and his past are elemental inspiration to a tapestry of events that are intertwined in time and space or something, or one of my favorites..

(6)reflections of quirky and witty headlines that will get you to give it a second look, and think used by the media, It's like observing life from a third person point of view you may call it or..

(7)my recent masterpiece, novel-like "random selection of phrases in a cacophony of emotions of a surreal application.." or wad eva some people may call it..

Whatever it may be... blogging is hard man.. Someone used to say that a blog is a reflection of the blogger's persona. The purest form of one's thoughts, the thing that goes bing bang boom up there, if you catch my drift.(Sad to say that someone is actually me, unless of course that someone said it first before i actually said it...)

Anyhow, I reckon the things that set it(blogs) apart from your own true thoughts in your head, are the insecurities that you, the blogger, may have and all that grey and white matter that you don't give two hoots about, cause it's all in there together with all your other organs neatly packed inside your body, ORGANised and all... blogging; pure thoughts or blah? you decide.

Sunday 7/11/2004 [One:two minutes] : insane

i'm gawking at the naked truth. Which i have yet to uncover. Clad. Layers of deception, half truths of what lies beyond; the otherside.
--Euphemistic innocence, One:two minutes

by virtue, i make no sense... these words, prodigious ideas that move hearts and minds of man... your thoughts will be numbed, senses dumbfounded. I challenge thee, the mortal intellect, to understand me... read... brain damage will ensue...

One:two minutes

Green. I left work at 3:34pm. the asphalt surface met the sunkissed reservoir of green. Not knowing that he was being watched, he made his way to the bakery. Bread please. One loaf not two. With beated breath he pulled out his purse and took out the green thumb. The police has been searching for me. Since last time we met, the cars and the clumsy blue chased me down that alley, beside 4th Avenue. Adjacent to that building the sky scrapers soared, into the pseudo-horizon, if you look it from a dead man's point of view. They almost had me. I could only keep it in my purse, the only thing i got from my girl. He paid in cash, took his bread and left. Not forgetting to tip the waiter at the counter. Scrumptious the food was, but the service needed tweaking, shirts should be pressed.

Thats what my ma always said, the folding of shirts and pants was a duty fit for her three muskerteers.. bob, dil and me... he used to tell us that when the sky turns grrenish pink, life will be ok. As i casted my gaze into the great span called the horizin my mind numbed. The thought of it all will indefinitely ruin my day. Red. Stop. car whizzes pass. Almost ran down by that cement truck. Popstar, big, fat, lazy-boned, punk with frilly hair. Not well to do, trying hard. Respect. The burnette at that corner threw her sight upon me with gay abandon. I think she likes me. He elbowed me. She beckoned. They called. Make your move. Make your move. The lights were buzzing with people as they made their way home. Bread. Tasty fellows, yeasty and smells good. Here's your change mister... two dings and a heartbeat later i was gone. Did i tip that guy? And he left the building. Carrying a polymer purse, thought provoking, heart wrenching action scences filled that box across the room. Whine and dine mister. Whine and dine...

Why are you looking at me... stop making my head hurt, bloody brain my eyes hurt. Are you? Why are you sparstic, my head is hurting. Why is life so unfiar. Biased to the power of three. Not forgetting to ring that bell i held her hands. She tried to hug me. I pushed her away. Come on, people are staring. Why? Ponders into the horizon once again... Took out a ruler. Question. Am i straight? hmm... Maybe my screw is lose. Call the plumber, the garderner said that he'll be here in five. Or was it at five? My clock says it's 3:35pm. Still green. Rotation and translation of human figurines, it's early the sky is still blue... the sun must be behind that sports complex. Bread please, one loaf not two. Blue moon, why the sudden rush? Chaos not pleading the guilt, ouch it hurts. Question. Why must it hurt so much?

I'm gawking at the naked truth. Which i have yet to uncover. Clad. Layers of deception, half truths of what lies beyond; the otherside.Pink skirt... two, three, four, .... twenty, twenty-one, pair of eyes on that pink... only down that block. Must be some skirt i guess. Made in Thailand. Machines, sewing ones, children, below eight coming to five. One, three, twenty seven... pardon me i'm dyselxci. Green fields. RiNnNnNngGgGg... I picked up the phone, no one there, must be that plumber. Peek holes, invented for a reason you know; i told myself, myself looked into the mirror and he saw me. Crazy thing that guy, myself looks like me. Tears, not of sorrow... but because.. because my head hurts again. Beated breath... Why am i shaking? Mummy! Must be nervous, first time on stage. CongratulatioOoOnNnNnsSs... the rest was a blur, i was not. Must be that stupid fly in my soup. Peripheral vision and all, kinda handy.

He answered the door, and the guy in a lab coat stood there. What are you doing man? get down and give me twenty. one, two, four, threty and plank... blur... still green. Red. 3:36pm... guess i have to get some bread. He crossed the road.

Saturday 7/10/2004 [WARNING! Criminals and married people will be prosecuted] : amused

The silence often of pure innocence Persuades when speaking fails. --Shak.

Banished from man's life his happiest life, Simplicity and spotless innocence! --Milton.

If you are married and posing as single, be aware that you could be guilty of fraud and subject to civil and criminal penalties under federal and state law. For each offense, Title 18, Section 1343 of the U.S. Code authorizes fines of up to $250,000 and jail sentences of up to five years. TRUE reserves the right to report violators to law enforcement authorities and seek prosecution or civil redress to the fullest extent of the law.
If you are married, please close your browser.

-From a match-making website

Saturday 7/10/2004 [my friendster] : self-denial

about me...

Tall, dark and... enough said, a teenager who seeks revenge from a quixotic and conniving step step gold fish who ordered his death, killed his corp, razed his home had his homework defiled and slaughtered stuff that he hated, also the suffering from a coroboration of agonising reapprasail from governmental institutions off the state of timbak two and western austonisland. i have no rational thought pattern connected with it. this explains my unjustifiable behaviour towards hot dogs and females. i also often question why the sky is blue, and now know the answer, i heard about the theory about how millions and millions of little blue men live in little blue houses in this little blue world way up above our heads... and had little blue underwear since they only have blue detergent wash. the grass is therefore green in colour. how ingenious can that get? wow...

Favorite Music...

You make me siao cow, Kiss by a donkey, The Kedai Mama, The bum bum song, Let's dance you lame kid, the tissue song, the wet tissue song, the i'm stuck in a wet tissue song, the i'm stucvk in a wet tissue and i cannot get out song, if only, if if only

Favorite Books...
Book worm, bookIE, book you, book me, book everybody, book store, book stab, bookly, book key, book land, book up your arse, book with another book, book with table and chair, book alone, book tissue, book man, book lady, dutch book lady, bookbian, bookay

Favorite TV Shows...

punk'b, sponge dude with square panties, that 70's television box, live tonite with david lettuceman, WWF (world woman's fun), royal flush, the designer gays 2, life with roswell aliens and their pet doggies which are pottie trained, the alphabert soup

Favorite Movies...

The great toilet, The blue cheese, The titan ae, i know wad you did last summer night, julius and his scissors, the russian mopster, the guy with the golden gun and silver bullets, the great indoors from outdoors, badman, badman and dickhead, snoopy doo

ya_zid@hotmail.com add me

Wednesday 5/19/2004 [13 minutes left] : inspired

Great spirits have always found violent opposition from mediocrities. The latter cannot understand it when a man does not thoughtlessly submit to hereditary prejudices but honestly and courageously uses his intelligence.
---Albert Einstein

13 years ago i was 5 years old, young, stupid and adorable. 13 months ago i was crossing from college to college, confused, relieved, and alienated. 13 weeks ago, i was pondering, how will the hockey season go? will we finally get into the semi-finals? will we better last season's game? 13 days ago, we lost our last game, against SAJC.. 2-0, we were out of the season. 13 hours ago. i was asleep, tired, exhausted and on my bed. 13 minutes ago, i started writing this. Now it's 13:13pm..

Time seems to fly by so fast. but why am i still here?

Monday 5/17/04 [A moment of madness] : insane

I preach there are all kinds of truth, your truth and somebody else's. But behind all of them there is only one truth and that is that there's no truth.
- - Flannery O'Connor "Wise Blood"

Incoherency in log does not deem author to lack sanity in mind. Just random uncut thoughts that drives man insane. Sanity lacks the common man, and the common man is full of it. Understood and misunderstood in nature, elucidates him from the call.

Innate personification per se of trivial issues that digs that basis of rudimentary and basal needs only seek to drown the common sorrow. Why common one may ask? Why not at all, the other may answer. Unwise blood flows through the innocent veins. Idocy lead to uncertainty in actions and certainty in results. Words speak bold, actions speak bolder. Yet enthralled in one’s dismay, the sadden state of mind only conscious of the latter and ignores the former. Misunderstood will man remain, until one day, dawn will truth fill their minds, hearts and soul. That one day, is today. Now, the present. Sad to say indeed, sad.