first off, an announcement: something i expected to happen at a much later date than yesterday has occured. i have, people, started actually studying. yes, i can hear the jaws hitting the floor already, but no, this is not a hoax.
i was really starting to worry, coz i couldnt feel any of the anxiety and pressure that's so intrinsic to my studying process at all. hence a total lack of revision (or discovery of new knowledge, as is the case for economics - those experiencing disbelief, i refer you to the dismal display of my ineptitude with supply and demand graphs). a horrifying thought struck me yesterday like the proverbial train to the brain (alright i made that one up). revealing that thought would, however, just make people hate me, i'm sure, so let's not go there alright?
how do you deal with the excruciatingly painful fact that you don't matter to someone else one iota? its funny, coz i'm sure if i asked anyone whether they'd even care, they'd say no. and yet i'm sure that when the time and the right person or people come(s) along, that'd change.
there're always people you want to matter to. i'm discovering that sometimes, wanting doesnt relate to the cold hard nature of reality. sometimes people really just dont give a fuck about you. and personally, i'd say its pretty damn painful.
the only way i can think of for it NOT to hurt is for you to, in return, not give a damn either. but that's just a vicious circle of destruction - a wind of hate. and its an ill wind that blows nobody any good.
somehow the words just don't flow any more do they? not that it matters at all to anyone but myself, naturally. for some reason there are so many things that only matter to me - the rest of the world just seems to accept things and forget them.
still, it makes me wonder what there was to start with.
and thus we are reduced to this. how utterly pathetic.
once upon a time there was
a man who couldnt tie his shoes
he walked around though, nonetheless
but so many pairs he'd lose
they'd slip off slowly, as he strolled
ambulated around town
they'd drop off of his soon-cold feet
in between "foot up", "foot down"
this man had himself many friends
amongst the local men
whose job it was to make new shoes.
for he'd buy shoes, and soon then
he'd trot back with that forlorn face
and they'd cry out "need a pair?"
and he'd groan and say "yes i'm afraid"
They'd sell, and wisper later "he drops them there"
then like cunning little rats or mice
they'd surreptitiously wander after
this poor sad sorry man, who's shoes they'd take,
once dropped, with lots of laughter.
then with faces schooled to be so straight
they'd wait till he returned
then SELL HIS OWN SHOES BACK TO HIM.
and count the cash they'd earned.
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secrets secrets secrets
where once there was but one.
now it seems that all is lies
and there's no truth under the sun
Apollo gazes down on us
and mocks us with His light.
He it is that watches us
and via Moon, also at night.
He laughs at all our petty deeds
our conceits and our deceptions
as we wonder 'round like foolish mice
trying to slant others' perceptions.
what fools we are to dare to think
that what we do is hidden.
like the rotting carcass of a pig
our lies lie rotting on Earth's midden.
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"so anyway, here i am just sitting like, just, like, by myself y'noe? and outta nowhere comes this little flying watchacallit - a UFO. y'noe what i'm talking abt. and then like this like little head thing pops like outta it, and its all like "Take me to your weeder" and i'm like "dude don't you mean like my LEADER or something?" and then the little alien head gives me like this totally evil glare and he just like flies off. i swear dude as the UFO thingy's leaving, i hear some little alien guy going "what's a little green man gotta do to get some pot around here?!"
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here's a thought: what if you could develop a story, where little alien beings fly around in spaceships that happen to look just like snakes on Earth? and these aliens existed, say, about 4500 years ago (Bible historians will get that one). so along they come to Earth, which is in absolutely pristine condition. they find two hominids wondering around in the most beautiful place there, but these two have a debilitating illness, caused by some external force. the aliens do a scan and search of their surroundings, and find a plant which has fruit uniquely suited to healing this illness they send subliminal messages to the two humans to eat the fruit.
after eating it (the female, being more sensitive, hears the message first and tells the male to partake of it also) the disease miraculously disappears, upon which -poof- suddenly an alien spacecraft appears in the air above the two humans - invisible to the human eye, but detected by the snakeship aliens, who see in a broader spectrum. turns out this larger ship contains aliens which'd been using humans for experiments, having established themselves as a God to the primitive natives, both to see the effects of the induced disease, and to test the limits of their subjects' ability to search for a cure. the larger ship banishes the snake one, and weaves a story of the snakeship's "evil", to prevent said snakeship beings from ever interrupting the work of the larger ship's beings.
now wouldnt THAT be a twist?
thought i better record it somewhere before the thought disappears and i lose the story. i think it's got real potential!
simple courtesy would obviously dictate rather different actions. but then i've never reasonably been able to expect that, so why start now?
i just had what i thought at first was a brilliant thought: the equivalent of leaving a table and having the ppl at it immediately bitch about you would, in cyberspace, be signing outta MSN Messenger, or whatever equivalent you're using. upon analysis, however, i realised that we don't even have honour enough to wait that long. in fact, we'd do it even while talking to that same person. Thus Humanity lowers itself to greater depths.
in a way its humbling, really, to realise how insignificant you are to another. especially when the process is a drawn-out one. somehow it drives the point home deeper than if you were told outright.
The Fionavar Tapestry
