moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
What my epitaph will say:
1992 - 2009
Death by procrastination.
On the bright side, I've been composing like crazy. The most recent is such a change from my normal emo drama-thunder splitting heartbreak tunes.
Here are the lyrics:
Burn the day away
Take me and shake my flaws away
Hold me and never let me go
Coz' its been so long
and you've blown all the grey away
You frown now, gotta tip you upside down
Trust me I know just what to do
Coz' you are too beautiful to let
the sadness darken you're day
//
Whatchu get when you fall over?
A friend who's there to help you on your way
I'm not saying the war is over
Conscience still prefers to stay away
Imagine you and me are flying
Over time and trees and parks and play
In the centre of the fire
Where its warm, then I'll hear you say:
You've got me and I've got you
Let's stay and just burn the day away
//
You're melody's the sweetest honey dew
To sit here and listen to the tune
Would be the greatest gift you gave
and to my heart a path you will pave
Remember me when all the day's are gone
When you're lonely you'll always have this song
And though you're standing on the edge of something vast
Know the only thing that lasts is us.
Probably will record this some time later...
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Chopin's a Bitch.
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
To avoid smashing my head into my piano in my poor attempt to do justice to one of Chopin's manic Mazurkas, I thought I should put in an entry.
So, here's the stitch: I seriously think I have swine flu.
& no.
No - I am not succumbing to the supposed "yellow journalism" and its intention to detract from the doom and gloom of the financial crisis. (Coz there is nothing cheerier than a pandemic) I just think that a normal flu shouldn't paralyse you for 4 days.
Yes, so I'm laying there in my bed, unable to talk for fear of a coughing fit - A difficult feat for an opinionated shrew such as myself. It was a chance for the voices in my head to be amplified. The internal monologue, now starved of interaction missed its job of undercutting conversation with sarcastic omissions. Ah, it was now my only company in my sickness. (My medieval parents, thinking I had the black plague, quarantined me to my room and religiously carried around a canister of Glen 20.)
I thought of many things: the power of the mind for instance. After chanting the mantra "I'm not going to die, I'm not going to die, I'm not going to die", I found that I convinced my mind to ward off the creeping grim reaper. I imagined it was some epic fencing battle between the hooded black figure and my super-buff Mind Power. Blow after blow, lunging and ducking and jumping and poking. Oh the drama! Good old Mind Power would cut that drab outfit into the 21st century before sending it on his way to collect his new victim. (Insert Micheal Jackson Joke)
Then finally in the light of the setting sun Mind Power would mount his stallion of victory and ride into the horizon, triumphant and forever a hero!
*Stares Dramatically*
As you can see, a normal flu wouldn't impose hallucinations either.
So yeah. Trials are less than a month away and I can't look at a block of writing without feeling nauseous. It's great. What annoys me about the whole Trials thing is that on social networking sites like Facebook people update there status with how far they've gotten with studying.
"Omg, like tots revised all the anglish modulzzz <33>
"Every11111 I know howz 2 diff3r3ntiate :O GO ME!"
Like I didn't need a reminder of my imminent failure. And also their imminent failure because anyone who spells differentiate with a 3 is obviously incapable of functioning in the normal world let alone in an exam situation. I think my new mantra will be "Put down the knife, put down the knife, put down the knife".
Well, this has been fun, but I think I need to torture myself further with Chopin and his damn Polish dance. Peace Out.
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
To avoid smashing my head into my piano in my poor attempt to do justice to one of Chopin's manic Mazurkas, I thought I should put in an entry.
So, here's the stitch: I seriously think I have swine flu.
& no.
No - I am not succumbing to the supposed "yellow journalism" and its intention to detract from the doom and gloom of the financial crisis. (Coz there is nothing cheerier than a pandemic) I just think that a normal flu shouldn't paralyse you for 4 days.
Yes, so I'm laying there in my bed, unable to talk for fear of a coughing fit - A difficult feat for an opinionated shrew such as myself. It was a chance for the voices in my head to be amplified. The internal monologue, now starved of interaction missed its job of undercutting conversation with sarcastic omissions. Ah, it was now my only company in my sickness. (My medieval parents, thinking I had the black plague, quarantined me to my room and religiously carried around a canister of Glen 20.)
I thought of many things: the power of the mind for instance. After chanting the mantra "I'm not going to die, I'm not going to die, I'm not going to die", I found that I convinced my mind to ward off the creeping grim reaper. I imagined it was some epic fencing battle between the hooded black figure and my super-buff Mind Power. Blow after blow, lunging and ducking and jumping and poking. Oh the drama! Good old Mind Power would cut that drab outfit into the 21st century before sending it on his way to collect his new victim. (Insert Micheal Jackson Joke)
Then finally in the light of the setting sun Mind Power would mount his stallion of victory and ride into the horizon, triumphant and forever a hero!
*Stares Dramatically*
As you can see, a normal flu wouldn't impose hallucinations either.
So yeah. Trials are less than a month away and I can't look at a block of writing without feeling nauseous. It's great. What annoys me about the whole Trials thing is that on social networking sites like Facebook people update there status with how far they've gotten with studying.
"Omg, like tots revised all the anglish modulzzz <33>
"Every11111 I know howz 2 diff3r3ntiate :O GO ME!"
Like I didn't need a reminder of my imminent failure. And also their imminent failure because anyone who spells differentiate with a 3 is obviously incapable of functioning in the normal world let alone in an exam situation. I think my new mantra will be "Put down the knife, put down the knife, put down the knife".
Well, this has been fun, but I think I need to torture myself further with Chopin and his damn Polish dance. Peace Out.
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Spontaneous Broadway
harr de harr harr!
I went to Spontaneous Broadway last night at the Playhouse Theatre, Opera House.
AH-MAZING!
Julia Zemiro = Friggin Legend.
More info: http://www.sydneyoperahouse.com/whatson/spontaneousbroadway.aspx
Ah, a night of comedy puts things in perspective.
Currently happy and blissfully in denial about my mountain of work...
I went to Spontaneous Broadway last night at the Playhouse Theatre, Opera House.
AH-MAZING!
Julia Zemiro = Friggin Legend.
More info: http://www.sydneyoperahouse.com/whatson/spontaneousbroadway.aspx
Ah, a night of comedy puts things in perspective.
Currently happy and blissfully in denial about my mountain of work...
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Optimism is Overrated
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
I've discovered that I am an excruciatingly annoying pessimist.
How do I finally realise?
After reading my last 13 posts of WAH? No.
After people induce a zen-like state of concentration upon my entrance? No
After friends smashed my head into a desk repeatedly? Surprisingly, No.
It was after accumulating so much pent-up rage from OTHER fellow pessimists almost thrusting me to commit second degree murder and not bothering to plea not guilty that it dawned on me.
I'm one of them...
*Googly Epiphany Eyes*
I am an annoying pessimist that emits horrid mental stink bombs.
. . .
So you naturally attempt to realign yourself, amending that you'll be optimistic from now on.
You'll see the silver lining, stop to smell the roses, and appease countless other positive idioms.
But while you're sitting there in the gum pocked seat of denial convincing yourself that its the throne of truth, you are perplexed. Is lying to yourself really the right thing to do? Muffling the third dimension of your multi-dimensional gloom?
You start to miss the cynical spin on reality TV:
"Today Tonight is an informative news program that represents the underrepresented viewpoint... who are you kidding, it's a mediocre melodrama whose sole purpose is feeding the politically paranoid more bias non-truths"
You miss the pleasant surprise of persevering despite your own expectation of failure.
You miss the quiet laughter of judgement imagining courage you'll never have and a backbone that you wish would grow.
Then you decide being a a dry prune is better than cloaking yourself as a juicy grape.
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
I've discovered that I am an excruciatingly annoying pessimist.
How do I finally realise?
After reading my last 13 posts of WAH? No.
After people induce a zen-like state of concentration upon my entrance? No
After friends smashed my head into a desk repeatedly? Surprisingly, No.
It was after accumulating so much pent-up rage from OTHER fellow pessimists almost thrusting me to commit second degree murder and not bothering to plea not guilty that it dawned on me.
I'm one of them...
*Googly Epiphany Eyes*
I am an annoying pessimist that emits horrid mental stink bombs.
. . .
So you naturally attempt to realign yourself, amending that you'll be optimistic from now on.
You'll see the silver lining, stop to smell the roses, and appease countless other positive idioms.
But while you're sitting there in the gum pocked seat of denial convincing yourself that its the throne of truth, you are perplexed. Is lying to yourself really the right thing to do? Muffling the third dimension of your multi-dimensional gloom?
You start to miss the cynical spin on reality TV:
"Today Tonight is an informative news program that represents the underrepresented viewpoint... who are you kidding, it's a mediocre melodrama whose sole purpose is feeding the politically paranoid more bias non-truths"
You miss the pleasant surprise of persevering despite your own expectation of failure.
You miss the quiet laughter of judgement imagining courage you'll never have and a backbone that you wish would grow.
Then you decide being a a dry prune is better than cloaking yourself as a juicy grape.
moomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoomoo
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