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[ website | art and lies ]
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(no subject) [Aug. 4th, 2014|09:59 am]
Journal is mostly friends only.
Comment to be added, I guess.
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(no subject) [May. 19th, 2011|01:09 am]
"Notional life is the life encouraged by governments, mass education and the mass media. Each of those powerful agencies couples an assumption of its own importance with a disregard for individuality. Freedom of choice is the catch phrase but streamlined homogeneity is the objective. A people who think for themselves are hard to control and what is worse, in a money culture, they may be sceptical of product advertising. Since our economy is now a consumer economy, we must be credulous and passive. We must believe that we want to earn money to buy things we don't need. The education system is not designed to turn out thoughtful individualists, it is there to get us to work. When we come home exhausted from the inanities of our jobs we can relax in front of the inanities of the TV screen. This pattern, punctuated by birth, death and marriage and a new car, is offered to us as real life.

Children who are born into a tired world as batteries of new energy are plugged into the system as soon as possible and gradually drained away. At the time when they become adult and conscious they are already depleted and prepared to accept a world of shadows. Those who have kept their spirit find it hard to nourish it and between the ages of twenty and thirty, many are successfully emptied of all resistance. I do not think it an exaggeration to say that most of the energy of most of the people is being diverted into a system which destroys them. Money is no antidote. if the imaginative life is to be renewed it needs its own coin."

Jeanette Winterson
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(no subject) [Aug. 18th, 2010|04:22 pm]

“We often told ourselves off for wasting time in chairs, fully dressed, talking, when we could be doing the same lying down in bed, face to face and naked. That precious time before lovemaking is ill served by the pseudo-clinical term foreplay. The world would narrow and deepen, our voices would sink into the warmth of our bodies, the conversation would become associative and unpredictable. Everything was touch and breath. Certain simple phrases came to me, which I didn’t say out loud because they sounded so banal - Here we are, or This again, or Yes, this. Like a moment in a recurring dream, these spacious innocent minutes were forgotten until we were back inside them. When we were, our lives returned to the essentials and began again. When we fell silent, we would lie so close we were mouth to mouth, delaying the union that bound us all the more because of this prelude.

So there we were, this again, and it was deliverance. The darkness beyond the gloom of the bedroom was infinite and cold as death.
We were a pinprick of warmth in the vastness.”

- Ian McEwan, Enduring Love

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return of "moonstar" [Apr. 14th, 2010|07:30 am]
These messages were sent while you were offline.

16:41 moonstar1500: hi how r u ,
i miss you very much

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(no subject) [Mar. 29th, 2010|04:27 am]
fridays without skins... GASP.

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(no subject) [Mar. 17th, 2010|03:29 am]
we walk around in cryptic circles of faith and sometimes it feels like we're dumb and blind, or stubbornly so because are we really sure we want to see what there is to be seen when we open our eyes?
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(no subject) [Dec. 11th, 2009|03:41 pm]
sometimes when you feel like that, you just feel like finding a hole where nobody can find you, and go to sleep.
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(no subject) [Nov. 28th, 2009|02:52 am]
[mood |irateirate]

i dont see how you can possibly be a theatre student in singapore when all the plays you get access too are mostly of the wild rice type. all the things that you read and hear about, things that you learn about you dont even get to see them. what a joke.

what have i learnt after almost 4 years in university?
that it is impossible to be a theatre student in singapore without being a joke. A JOKE.
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une saison en enfer, rimbaud [Nov. 8th, 2009|09:21 am]
Et c'est encore la vie ! - Si la damnation est éternelle ! Un homme qui veut se mutiler est bien damné, n'est-ce pas ? Je me crois en enfer, donc j'y suis. C'est l'exécution du catéchisme. Je suis esclave de mon baptême. Parents, vous avez fait mon malheur et vous avez fait le vôtre. Pauvre innocent ! - L'enfer ne peut attaquer les païens. - C'est la vie encore ! Plus tard, les délices de la damnation seront plus profondes. Un crime, vite, que je tombe au néant, de par la loi humaine.

Tais-toi, mais tais-toi !... C'est la honte, le reproche, ici : Satan qui dit que le feu est ignoble, que ma colère est affreusement sotte. - Assez !... Des erreurs qu'on me souffle, magies, parfums faux, musiques puériles. - Et dire que je tiens la vérité, que je vois la justice : j'ai un jugement sain et arrêté, je suis prêt pour la perfection... Orgueil. - La peau de ma tête se dessèche. Pitié ! Seigneur, j'ai peur. J'ai soif, si soif ! Ah ! l'enfance, l'herbe, la pluie, le lac sur les pierres, le clair de lune quand le clocher sonnait douze... le diable est au clocher, à cette heure. Marie ! Sainte-Vierge !... - Horreur de ma bêtise.
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(no subject) [Nov. 8th, 2009|08:59 am]
sometimes people go crazy in an instant, and theyre lucky, cause they pretty cease to care about anything about everything in an instant too.

sometimes people feel themselves losing the so called cohesive treads of sanity bit by bit, so excruciatingly slow that it feels like you've got your nails up in the shredder - in slow motion.

what do you do about not being able to do anything about it?
so you might cry, scream, act like a nutcase but what can you do really?

i really just want to sleep and never wake up.
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