Archive for August, 2007

The Glass Menagerie (picture)

Today, I went to school and was a bit sick with a headache (first time having it! *goggles*) so I tried cam-whoring at home after it got better and it was real fun and productive!

I don’t know which one is better, I’ve got two versions.

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Please tell me which.

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It was quite a trial and error when I was snapping and my eye chanced to be looking to one corner of the room so there’s this nice reflection showing.

If you’d observed, the Glass Menagerie is a play of Tennessee Williams, one of my favorites.

The title just popped into my head, and thinking about it, it do seemed to express a little of the poignant mood present in the play.

I think this is what I call the “empty stare”, tell me, what do you feel when you see this?

I just feel glassy and empty, like the glass menageries smashed to the ground in the end, so strong a silence that one does not know how to react.

5 comments August 30, 2007

reflections (prose continuation)

Continuation from: http://incantocharms.wordpress.com/2007/08/25/variations-on-a-spring-afternoon-continued-prose/

It was getting quite warm as she came to an abandoned gravel carpark which she seemed foreign to for she looked around, lost. And out from the corner of her eye, she spied a lone car, too far to discern its make-up. But as far as it seemed, the owner had wanted to conceal it. Who in the world would want to buy a car of that dirty green color?

Not that it mattered to her but to her expert eye, the owner should have chosen the spot behind the ruins of torn-down concrete from the last demolision, and what a wierd place to choose too. The two middling trees behind which hid the car gave off a sharp glare with every movement of the leaves from the two trees that parted like a stage curtain that’s under the mercy of irregular wind.

But then again, the owner evidently did not park it there in a haste, for the windscreen as she got nearer, was in a perfect parrallel to the distant kerb of the road, exposing a little of its headlights– just for a little hint. And the spot was not easy to get to and she did not know how it could have been there without having at least two people lifting it through the tiny space without hacking off a tree that stood in the way.

And then she understood it all– it has all been a ploy, a ploy to get her in.

Walk into my palour, said the spider to the fly. And she has obediently walked in for tea just in time– 4.30, the regular.

This time, she knew she had to leave–had she been so conspicuous? She had made sure to wear her hair sideways down like the girls do and brown hair wasn’t much of a particular sight either.

Turning back to leave without looking about in case her prempt was all paranoia, she almost stepped into a puddle. Almost picking up again, she spelled odd, she was not at all sure that it. did. rain. today. Staring into the mirrored surface, she thought she knew what was wrong– the petticoat! Wrangling her hands to tear it off, she thought she saw something in it other than the poetic blue skies almost made impressionistic with a few accidental dashes of clouds..

But before she could strain her unadorned eyes, she felt a tinge of cold metal just below her ear–

a wierd place, yes.

And then she saw it– the same face of a fish-like amusement as she held out her hand to grab for air,

dropping a tiny antique watch affair,

into the puddle,

with a muted splash..

___________________________________________________________

To see the picture for this one series, go to www.chryslagallery.com

Add comment August 29, 2007

Farewell Coachy!!

 Sobs, sobsxx, we’re all turning emo!

Today is the last time we’re seeing our beloved coach who’s leaving on the 13th next month for college, UCL to study medicine!

Us a small/large group of 7 splurged in Fish & Co. and landed in huge debts!

Loads of funny things happen of course when we Blighters are in a group– alone we’re complete sane beings, upright and serious, together, somehow we get all strange. Must be too high a genetic defeciency concentrations!

Hannah the pistaChio bounced on the seat for a record height measured and set off a 90 degrees pendulum swing on Fish & Co.’s Trademark Swordfish hanging on the wall just above us, whose Tail when on its swing upwards, landed its nose broken when it hit Samara’s head a seat away!! OUCH factor 100/100!

And I would like to add that I was in the middle of the terrible catastrophe! Sorry fish! Your nose! One can almost imagine how depressing it is for a swordfish to lose 3/4 of its nose!!

The Blighters were extremely mortified later on when I started chewing lemon slices stolen from their fish and chips to Distress. They then drew up their daggers (actually forks and knives) when I told them of my habitual employment of the esteemed routine for a healthy diet.

I also found out that two dashes of Salt, one dash of pepper, three dashes of salt, followed by two dashes of pepper makes plain water taste much better! A recipe perfected by few glasses of trial and error.

I put to good use the disgusting tartar sauce, along with chili, cookies and cream, chocolate fudge, a bunch of cherries contributed later as a mission of Goodwill by the Blighters to create a delicious concoction of the Debater’s Cocktail as named by me right now.

Looking at its wonderful creamy, white texture, we then decided that its all too good for our palettes so we left the place regretfully.

I’ve just done airing our Cleanest Laundry. As for the rest, I think I’d better wash it a bit first.

You know what I mean– I just aired my Cleanest Laundry. I’ll just have to hide the rest!

1 comment August 27, 2007

Perfection explained in Math

Nevermind, let’s drop the story for a while..

to torture you.

But I don’t think you will be will you? Haha, in any case, I don’t like to take chances, I’m sure out of the 100s everday, there will be one soul at least punctured uh?

Perfection humm.

Have you ever tried introducing Math into Philosophy? No, not a recipe for disaster– maybe you decide!

Let’s say our lives are divided into 10 fields and each has the capacity of maximum 10 points. Points are representation of one’s efforts put in, passion, time, factors you decide.

And we’re each given 50 points to divide among these fields. You could divide them equally and be half-assed at each (5 points) or be really good at 1 or 2.

These numbers are arbitrary, chosen just to make a representation, we could have 2 fields or a 100 fields, and have 5 points as the maximum– just for you to get the idea that we can’t score 10/10 for everything.

Perfection can exist in everyone, it just is decided according to you, whether you want to limit your definition of perfection into the 10 fields or one field.

I prefer the latter, what do you?

4 comments August 26, 2007

Variations on a Spring Afternoon (continued prose)

Her petticoat loosely hung, she brisked through the fields of awakening poppies, ones who have slept and ones who stretched their last yawns. Well, we can’t say that her reckless fashion of walking could win any favors among the flowers– that is, if she had been a pound more heavier, she would have crushed them dead while trudging carelessly in apathy among the Life of Spring.

She seemed to be in a purposeful hurry. Fixing on a pair of pince-nez, she fumbled in her bag for something, to whose need must be discretionary for she discontinued the process after a going through the second compartment without displaying a decimate look of distress.

Brushing her hair back, she tilted her glasses in a professional air as she breezed through the fields, pulling her petticoat along, which was swept back by the strong winds.

Hoisting up her left arm to draw back the bulky sleeves, a watch, a quaint antique with an emerald studded watch face accentuated with some well-placed rubies along its side. Old country, but it does seem to suit our lady, in a strange way.

Looking at it doesn’t seem to move her in any ways that we’ve imagined. Perhaps, its an old watch– past its days of thrill for its mistress.

She heaved a sigh of resolved anxiety that which relief in itself could not properly describe.

4.15 .

It seemed that the exact time itself is the concern for our lady, but we could not say for sure..

He watched her in muted interest.

The watch, the watch..

Those were the times when Deja Vu kicks in and gets you..

In.

It was all too familiar, on a Summer’s afternoon..

.

.

(to be continued tomorrow (: keep reading!)

1 comment August 25, 2007

Mmph, Obstacles Pave your Way to Focus!

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Hmm, seems to me like those of a Locust poster you hang on the wall for Daily Inspiration.

They say stuff like,” Obstacles pave your way to Focus.”

Heh, you see, the wall and the black portions are obstacles that block your way, but who knows, they might be stopping you from going the wrong way!

Ah, and you go along the Paved Road leading to Focus.

Pretty nice story don’t you think?

And you must have been wondering where this nice, nice place is..

School!

Yeah, school! Hey kiddos, don’t tell me you never noticed this spot in the school!

In any case, guess where! ;p

4 comments August 23, 2007

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The trees are in misery, and the birds are in misery. I don’t think they sing. They just screech in pain. Taking a close look at what’s around us, there is some sort of harmony: it’s the harmony of overwhelming and collective murder. - Werner Herzog

 

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