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shape without form, shade without colour
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do i dare?
Michaelangelo.
let us go and make our visit
time for you, time for me click above for a handful of dust
so how should I presume?
If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in! Come in!... for where the sidewalk ends. - Shel Silverstein
These fragments I have shored against my ruins. - T.S. Eliot
do i dare...disturb the universe?
ren-ka // alias. karrot,kawun
dob.11.10.
I live in a world where
lobster and corn can be very
good friends.
i have known the eyes already
songs: Strokes
tvb: dinner at 8
kvariety: nil
kdrama: ryeo
twdrama: love O2O
anime: nil
book: Moveable Feast Ernest Hemingway
website: moonbeard
website: stumble
headache: the boy
about the layout
Credits to magnette from blogskins.com, mods made by me.
Lots of it is inspired by T.S. Eliot's Hollow Men and Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.
This unexpected, shameful feeling flooded me like a collapsing, inevitable storm.
(What a terrible metaphor.)
I am starting to hate this hole box I dug myself into. Because it makes me realize I am merely a hypocrite hermit, longing for the vast world outside, a niche for those with more than merely shadows of hope. Ah, you hypocrite hermit! Happy for every glimpse of flickering light. Catching them like droplets of... who knows what.
Oh hypocrite hermit, come to your senses, you shameful dirty little recluse, you ugly warty misanthrope. Stay in your dingy dunghole of existence until you are called to attention or to rise to some occasion or other. Until then, wake up, smell the damn roses or coffee or reality or whatever you smell and stay where you are.
I was just thinking how much music lifted me today. I found two really pretty chords on my darling uke and I was just strummin' along, letting my thoughts drift a little. It was a pretty mindscape.
Then, I kept thinking, ah, that's why God loves worship so much. It's because He too, loves the sound of music. It was a soothing thought to think and drift a little on. More and more, it sounds like I'm on drugs, but I'm not.
Dmaj7 - E7 and Cmaj7 - G
floating sensations :) momentarily content
so that's why, Shakespeare starts his Twelfth Night with
[A warm belly full of food makes me feel blessed, happy and loved. Thanks, unnie and her darling mother, who made me Korean bap, kong nameul banchan, moo gook with kogi! I feel so Korean... (Oh! And homemade PERFECT French Macaroons. Yum!)]
Break Me Out - The Rescues (Crazy Ever After) My empty room Crowded to soon I look for the fire escape I picture myself Running like hell Making my getaway
The walls are caving in with no warning This ship is sinking, I gotta swim for it I'm running out of air
Break me out tonight I wanna see the sun rising anywhere but here Come with me Oh, this could be The only chance we get We gotta take it We don't do it now we'll never make it Lose this crowd Oh break me out
Whisper of our feet Sneak down the street Some kind of secret race They'll carry on Won't notice we're gone So easily replaced
The walls are caving in with no warning This ship is sinking, I gotta swim for it I'm running out of air
Break me out tonight I wanna see the sun rising anywhere but here Come with me Oh, this could be The only chance we get We gotta take it We don't do it now we'll never make it Lose this crowd Oh break me out
The walls are caving in with no warning This ship is sinking, I gotta swim for it I got a feeling we're better off anyway I don't care what they say
- - - -
Let's all listen to new music. Step out of the box of comfort sometimes, break free and...
You know, girls always pine for the man who is the better one but doesn't get the girl in the end. And by always, I mean me. I always do that. Why do they have to make them love the girl so painstakingly and so unrequitedly. It crushes me for them. All the unrequitedness is getting to my head. They like them SO MUCH. It's so heart wrenching when the girl picks the other guy. It's all because the conventions of a drama dictates it that way. Or stories in general. There's always a main, but who takes care of the poor, suffering leftover boy (man in this case).
Don't get me wrong, I'm not experiencing any of that at all. Nothing from nobody and nothing from me. Hopefully this is the calm before the storm, 'cause certainly, this is very calming. It's all just fictional; and it's all in my head.
I'm suffering from withdrawal. I just watched a drama with 2 beautiful men in it. Loved every single part of it. From the unrequitedness to the friendship to the bromance.
I'd like to share some Banksy with you. It's currently my wallpaper and reflective of what I am experiencing or... well ironically... well I don't know, just have a look at this:
It's... well, stunning. There is always hope. Isn't that just so ironic in some deep higher-level thinking way?
"The first thing a person does in the morning is listen. Some people hear birds, some hear bombs, some hear alarm-clock radios, some hear thunder, some hear the breathing of somebody they loved, some hear silence. But my sound, the sound that I heard that morning..." - Brian Doyle's Uncle Ronald
"Sometimes, when you're my age, your body feels so light you feel like you're going to disappear. Or you feel kind of transparent. I feel sometimes afraid that when the nurse comes in to check on me she'll be able to see right through me. I feel papery, like the skin of a long-gone bug. But I don't really think about my body most of the time. I ignore it as much as I can. I mean, what's the sense? I've spent decades feeding it, watering it, satisfying it and enough is enough.
They can come in and suck me up their vacuum cleaners for all I care.
No, now it's my mind and my mind only that I care about.
And my memory. My memory, which is like an ancient painting on the wall of a deep cave. If I carry the flaming torch into the cave, get the light shining just right, flickering just nice there in the shadows, and if I recognize and remember the symbols and the letters, the pictures and the words, well then, I can read and interpret exactly what's there." - from Brian Doyle's Uncle Ronald
If you look deeply and carefully enough, you'll find such intricate substances weaved into children's novels too. Never underestimate the capacity of what children, adolescents can learn and understand. I miss the English Lit days, when I would just sit around talking about this stuff, this precious eloquent, beautiful stuff.
I still love stream of consciousness, Faulkner style.
- digressions and a minute discourse on metaphor // 1:10 pm
"To unleash the mind's creative energy, multiply metaphor by the square of the speed of thought."
I feel useless and existence feels null.
One of my peer teacher candidates (one of my housemates actually) got a teaching job in Sweden and she's been telling literally all her friends about it. And I can hear it through the door. On one hand, I am overjoyed for her, she certainly does deserve everything she has attained. On the other, I feel increasingly... empty and afraid.
I feel so discouraged and despondent... and I haven't even started trying.
I need a pick me up and no amount of hilarious, amazing, tear-jerking dramas seems to be doing the trick. I cry all day long like someone died or something. My eyes are puffed up and...
"Language is fossil poetry." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
If I just breathe Let it fill the space between I'll know everything is alright Breathe, Every little piece of me You'll see Everything is alright If I just breathe Breathe
So I whisper in the dark, Hoping you hear me Do you hear me?
- Michelle Branch
Actually today, I was furious. And I'd hate to admit why.
So I'll just leave it here. I rarely get so angry with someone ... especially someone I thought was a friend.
I've fallen into a nervous wreck since I deactivated facebook. The virtue of this is that I've completely stopped counting the days, even though I know it hasn't been that long.
Endless inquiries have come in and ... I don't know how to answer them. - I've made a vow? (Scared I'll break such a solemn promise, so that's not it.) - until I've found a job... (What if I don't find a job within...whenever I want to get it back?) - I'm trying to quit... (Okay, it was on a whim/quote unquote resolution, but how long do those last anyway?)
I do have that itch in my fingers to go back on, but what the heck, let's see how long this'll last me. The shortcoming is that I find that I have a lot more time on my hands... now brain, what shall we do about all this time I have now?
Ukulele playing has slight progress, but not much.
It's been about 8-9 hours or so since I've done it. Quite a big step for me and I'm itching all over to just scream WHATEVER and get back on. But here's the deal. If I had the willpower to quit MSN of all things, then I have the willpower to do this. It's just so distracting in EVERY AREA of my life. So, this will be a fast hopefully at least until I am able to find a job.
Plus, blogger has always been a friend in the most tumultuous of times.
I realized, I used the word auspicious wrong in many contexts and now I feel slightly stupid. It's a fabulous word albeit my erroneous usages.
As you can probably tell already, I am just jotting down some miscellaneous thoughts in between times.
Rather apprehensive about the job search, but I had better dive head first into it and put up a good fight.
Nobody really reads this little corner of the web, come to think of it. Some of my friends were eager to keep up but it's been dry land around here and nothing too dramatic or exciting happening. (Although I always make it seem like there is.) So really this is just for me to read in years to come as I now read my years past and revisit that pang of nostalgia.
I don't really mind that no one reads it, but future K, bear this in mind, there is always hope. When everyone else tells you that there is nothing ahead of you that you should look forward to, heed this, there is always hope. Now, whether that hope is false or not, that's for you to discover. [Insert dry laughter.]
I have made plans to go church-hopping, maybe try and get back into the whole God thing. If He's really waiting for me at some cafe... then I should probably at least try to get a on public transportation to get to Him.
I must be mad (the crazy way). It must be the insomniac talking. Last night was an awful night for sleep. The circles under my eyes have deepened. I need some good reading material, alas, I cannot find any.
Snow blankets.
I'm really all over the place right now. I feel so completely lost and slightly thrown aboard some unknown abyss of unknown.
From a wise friend: "The greatest tragedy of the pseudo-tragic poet is the lack of said tragedy. There is nothing I can muse upon, for everything is okay."
