rant
Monday, February 26, 2007
rant:
I feel bad not going for Judo AGAIN!! ARGH!!! Workworkworkworkwork..
Oh, I think I'm starting to like japanese music.
Do my rants have to make logical sense?
I think I'm getting addicted to coffee.. no good..
I miss home.
I miss Lawyer's cock hair.
Literature is crap.
I have an astronomy prelim tomorrow. bye!
Did I say I like Liang Jing Ru?
Ok, gotta go..
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9:11 PM
Random Equation
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Botak head in winter = Freezing head
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5:06 PM
Some random spark of literary inspiration..
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
" In winter, the sun doesn't rise at all in the North Pole. Not at all. Just a shroud of darkness."
I look outside at the shadows of the nearby street lamp, disdained by the cacophony of misguided students back from chilling out. Chilling out? It's pelting mini frozen iceballs out there! Perhaps the head doesnt get knocked too badly, so these students aren't hysterically wrestling in the snow, but surely the cold must have an effect on the warm blood flowing through their veins. Any part of the body still exposed ought to be covered up in layers, and as they decorate each other's faces with state-of-the-art snowballs, I wonder how the tinge of coldness their faces must feel without all those layers that insulate them in a cocoon of warmth. As the screams died down, I can imagine the gusty wind chills dancing in their faces, teasing their ears, freezing their noses, and wasting my time. I am within the comfort zone of my dorm, but the chilly wall right next to me reminds me how close I am at the edge of that zone. It's just like how blood that flow in veins too near the skin surface lose heat ever so readily. We are after all just flesh and skin, not iron and armor plates.
The winter is hostile, and the pristine beauty of the snowy white landscape that blankets everything is defined by idealistic optimists contented in their cocoons of warmth. Surely there is beauty to everything, you say? That, I'll agree. But that layer of snow you see is like a skin, a boundary for the icy depths of frozen soils beneath, void of life we are so familar with during the summer. How gloomy it must seem now, compared to summer. And how gloomy it must be in the North Pole now, where the white landscape is hard compacted ice, its formation evolving with a lack of intervention from the warmth of the sun. It is one of those immutable facts of life, that snow comes during winter, and that beneath the many layers of winter clothing, beneath the thin layer of skin, we are ever so fragile, completely at the mercy of subzero temperatures. People have to wear winter clothes to protect them from the cold. Nobody is born strong. Not even the eskimos and polar bears in the North Pole. Yet, we go about doing our daily activities, being the eskimos we are, in the many layers of protection.
Maybe the sun doesn't rise in the North Pole. Maybe the weather will remain cold for quite a while. And maybe we will always remain in our cocoons of warmth, in our layers of winter clothes. The eskimo draws strength from within, with the same blood we all have, surviving the gloomy artic winds. Perhaps inner strength is the best layer of protection, that can shine hope, piercing through the shroud of darkness we sometimes see. When the sun is not around to provide us with warmth, we rely on the many layers of protection. And when the sun finally rises in the distant horizon of North Pole, when summer comes, skin will only be the layer of protection we'd ever need.
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11:34 PM
