It's that time of the year again where we all get together into a semblance of civility and celebrate the birth of our baby Jesus. I actually look forward to this day because it has the power to get everyone together, if not for a single day, and we just chill out as a family. It's nice, however brief it is.
- Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Let's be honest :)
Lately, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the concept of honest communication. I tested someone this week to see how well they would do with honest communication, and I realized something in this experiment, the thoughts that people verbalize are sometimes not in proportion to their actual emotions. You’d think that in an age where freedom of speech is highly encouraged and is seen indicator of our modernization, people would be more inclined to speak truthfully. But it seems to me that this entitlement has caused society to become highly sensitive, and in our sensitivity we actually tend to censor a lot of our thoughts, or maybe we’re just putting them in quotations. It annoys me when I find myself having to decipher conversations on a regular basis as if we were communicating in double entrendes – have I missed something here? Is this an allegory? Then I have to do things like learning how to read body language, or analyzing the eyes – It’s so taxing! But maybe we are not quite comfortable with being frank – this world would be much too swift and the thrill of chasing pavements would be gone. Maybe.
My experiment also led me to the conclusion that there is a lot of cowardice involved in in communication. I knew that the person I was talking to was only giving me little excerpts of what they actually thought; I could tell that they were waiting for a specific response from me. And depending on how I would respond, they would shape their thoughts to fit mine. I’m sure this person thought that this was a compromise; however, this form of communication only led us to both partake in a dishonest conversation. It was like, fine you won’t tell me, then I won’t tell you neither. We were only willing to risk as much as we could get, and for that reason, we were just speaking at each other and not with each other.
My experiment also led me to the conclusion that there is a lot of cowardice involved in in communication. I knew that the person I was talking to was only giving me little excerpts of what they actually thought; I could tell that they were waiting for a specific response from me. And depending on how I would respond, they would shape their thoughts to fit mine. I’m sure this person thought that this was a compromise; however, this form of communication only led us to both partake in a dishonest conversation. It was like, fine you won’t tell me, then I won’t tell you neither. We were only willing to risk as much as we could get, and for that reason, we were just speaking at each other and not with each other.
2011!
So here are some things I plan on doing in 2011!
Skydive. Behind my cooly contained demeanour, I have a highly adventurous spirit. I’m all for chasing moments that accelerate the rate of my heart and yet, have the power to produce a big smile on my face; I believe that skydiving will accomplish just that. I once read a book that talked about the state of feeling infinite, experiencing the ultimate “high” of life. For some people that may mean smoking a joint on top of Mount Everest or watching a fat kid rolling down the stairs, but for me it means being dropped from high altitudes. It’s as close as I’m getting to experiencing something safely similar to an electric voltage shock – being dropped at about 3,500 feet is positively Wizard!
Enroll in University. Whether that's going to be at UOFT, Western, or wherever, i'm excited for this new stage of learning. Oh my baby Jesus, that's crazy!
Job (modelling most likely). So it's time to get my modelling experience going on with Showcase, i'm pretty stoked for the fashion show in May. It's something different that I've been meaning to try and have finally been given the chance to do so. Hopefully this new job opens up other opportunities.
Travel. It's going to be that time of the year where I'm going to be oceans away in some rad place. I think that the summer of 2011 I'll be spending in either Portugal or some South American country. . I love travelling, but I especially love South America. Their people are engaging, their culture truly captivating, and their beaches – Wow. I love the thrill that accompanies meeting new people. Having visited two South American countries, I noticed a pattern among South Americans – they’re full of spice. They have a zest for life that’s envious, food that looks as well as tastes exotic, and music that reaches your core and has your feet tapping in unconscious tempo. What else can I say; it’s an amazing continent located right under my nose.
G2. I need to get that license, I plan on driving in 2011. Damn, the extent of my laziness sometimes astounds me.
I'll keep adding more to this list, in the meantime;
Happy Holidays!
Skydive. Behind my cooly contained demeanour, I have a highly adventurous spirit. I’m all for chasing moments that accelerate the rate of my heart and yet, have the power to produce a big smile on my face; I believe that skydiving will accomplish just that. I once read a book that talked about the state of feeling infinite, experiencing the ultimate “high” of life. For some people that may mean smoking a joint on top of Mount Everest or watching a fat kid rolling down the stairs, but for me it means being dropped from high altitudes. It’s as close as I’m getting to experiencing something safely similar to an electric voltage shock – being dropped at about 3,500 feet is positively Wizard!
Enroll in University. Whether that's going to be at UOFT, Western, or wherever, i'm excited for this new stage of learning. Oh my baby Jesus, that's crazy!
Job (modelling most likely). So it's time to get my modelling experience going on with Showcase, i'm pretty stoked for the fashion show in May. It's something different that I've been meaning to try and have finally been given the chance to do so. Hopefully this new job opens up other opportunities.
Travel. It's going to be that time of the year where I'm going to be oceans away in some rad place. I think that the summer of 2011 I'll be spending in either Portugal or some South American country. . I love travelling, but I especially love South America. Their people are engaging, their culture truly captivating, and their beaches – Wow. I love the thrill that accompanies meeting new people. Having visited two South American countries, I noticed a pattern among South Americans – they’re full of spice. They have a zest for life that’s envious, food that looks as well as tastes exotic, and music that reaches your core and has your feet tapping in unconscious tempo. What else can I say; it’s an amazing continent located right under my nose.
G2. I need to get that license, I plan on driving in 2011. Damn, the extent of my laziness sometimes astounds me.
I'll keep adding more to this list, in the meantime;
Happy Holidays!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
To be or not to be - Amazing
To be, or not to be– that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep
No more – and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to – 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep
No more – and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to – 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.—Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Beautiful
This is just the last stanza of John Donne's good-morrow, which bewitched me two years ago when I first had the privilege of hearing it.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,
And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,
Where can we finde two better hemispheares
Without sharpe North, without declining West?
What ever dyes, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,
And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,
Where can we finde two better hemispheares
Without sharpe North, without declining West?
What ever dyes, was not mixed equally;
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Vestige
Sometimes hindsight is all we have. It's cruel, as it reminds us of how perfect things used to be. It saddens me, the subtle but blatant changes. I miss, I long, I lament...
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
June 29, 2010
The worst day of my life, thus far.
I was in the kitchen with my cousin Neusa, in the midst of making us something to eat and washing the dishes so that my mother would not give us a sermon when she arrived. I remembered being very happy at that precise moment, and then my little cousin barges in sniffing and trying to make his voice clear, which really alerts us. And so we asked him what happened, and he told me my mother just told him the unthinkable, and that she was coming upstairs. I could not grasp what was being said to me and so I just did what most people will do in this case; I broke down and cried. When my mother finally came upstairs with a wet red handkerchief in her hand to match the current colour of her eyes, I felt helpless. Then we told eachother "fica calma, seja forte, que tudo vai passar," hollow words that did not and will not suffice to ebb our sudden and all consuming pain.
I was in the kitchen with my cousin Neusa, in the midst of making us something to eat and washing the dishes so that my mother would not give us a sermon when she arrived. I remembered being very happy at that precise moment, and then my little cousin barges in sniffing and trying to make his voice clear, which really alerts us. And so we asked him what happened, and he told me my mother just told him the unthinkable, and that she was coming upstairs. I could not grasp what was being said to me and so I just did what most people will do in this case; I broke down and cried. When my mother finally came upstairs with a wet red handkerchief in her hand to match the current colour of her eyes, I felt helpless. Then we told eachother "fica calma, seja forte, que tudo vai passar," hollow words that did not and will not suffice to ebb our sudden and all consuming pain.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The absent thrill is back.
Friends;
Some people spend a whole lifetime looking for transparent humans to warm up to, luckily enough, that fate was not bestowed upon me. I'm not so naive to believe that all smiles that find their way to me are not hinted with a touch of disdain, scorn, or whatever sad sentiment (it really is sad, because if you don't like me as a person, do not smile at me. Pretense is not human courtesy).
I've come to truly appreciate the friends I have, even if it's not an abundance of them, they are there. Present for mundane matters, for unbiased listening, and for the uncomplicated pleasantries of life. I know that there will be a time when my closest friends and myself will find our separate ways, looking to reach our uninhibited aims. When that time comes and whatever course of actions follow, I will be happy to have met them, to have spent my trivial high school years beside them and sincerely hope to keep them. Because;
If I could, then I would, I'd go wherever they will go.
Some people spend a whole lifetime looking for transparent humans to warm up to, luckily enough, that fate was not bestowed upon me. I'm not so naive to believe that all smiles that find their way to me are not hinted with a touch of disdain, scorn, or whatever sad sentiment (it really is sad, because if you don't like me as a person, do not smile at me. Pretense is not human courtesy).
I've come to truly appreciate the friends I have, even if it's not an abundance of them, they are there. Present for mundane matters, for unbiased listening, and for the uncomplicated pleasantries of life. I know that there will be a time when my closest friends and myself will find our separate ways, looking to reach our uninhibited aims. When that time comes and whatever course of actions follow, I will be happy to have met them, to have spent my trivial high school years beside them and sincerely hope to keep them. Because;
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Wind of Change
I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind of change
The world closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close,like brothers
The future's in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change
Chorus:
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change
Walking down the street
Distant memories
Are buried in the past forever
I fallow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change
The wind of change blows straight
Into the face of time
Like a stormwind that will ring
The freedom bell for peace of mind
Let your balalaika sing
What my guitar wants to say
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change
I have to say that I was one damn lucky kid to be exposed to the art of words. I mean most of the songs that bring that pang of nostalgia, are decades older than me. And still their words, chorus, and soothing rhythm have endured. Everything I listen to, the Scorpions particularly always make me feel as if I'm experiencing whatever it is that they are singing about. Their songs are eerie and absolutely amazing. The wind of change song makes me think of fields of gold, of altruism, of something I'd like to be a part of. I vaguely know what...
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind of change
The world closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close,like brothers
The future's in the air
I can feel it everywhere
Blowing with the wind of change
Chorus:
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change
Walking down the street
Distant memories
Are buried in the past forever
I fallow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change
The wind of change blows straight
Into the face of time
Like a stormwind that will ring
The freedom bell for peace of mind
Let your balalaika sing
What my guitar wants to say
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream away
In the wind of change
I have to say that I was one damn lucky kid to be exposed to the art of words. I mean most of the songs that bring that pang of nostalgia, are decades older than me. And still their words, chorus, and soothing rhythm have endured. Everything I listen to, the Scorpions particularly always make me feel as if I'm experiencing whatever it is that they are singing about. Their songs are eerie and absolutely amazing. The wind of change song makes me think of fields of gold, of altruism, of something I'd like to be a part of. I vaguely know what...
Monday, March 1, 2010
Release therapy.
After not seeing my mother for almost half an year, I finally got to see her again this past weekend. You know that when you're a kid that grows up with two parents to cater to your every need, the small cut on your finger, and scold that older brother that has made you cry... Life is definitely different. Not living my mother in particular has been both advantageous and tough. In her absence I was faced with learning how to deal with my own shit. The willing and non judgmental arms of a mother that we take for granted were not there for me in the precise moment I needed them. Yes, having a voice to hear you out and put in all the right "uhuhs" and "I understand" is good, but sometimes people just don't really care to see into the surface of your problem. It's like talking to a kid, you can get their occasional unwavering attention, but do they really care? Not like a mother cares about her offspring. I think that has played an essential part in my overall personality. I became more detached than I ever was and I appear to be politely blasé towards other peoples shit, something that I'm not proud of, because I do care.I think it's just the fact that when it comes down to it, we all have to face the fact that while we think that someone is probably overreacting over something, let's try to be a little open-minded and consider this; they are not you, therefore, they do not react to certain situations the way you do. Sympathy. Something I'm currently trying to be more sincere about. Human growth class has taught me the theories of some intellectual, the oral, anal, phallic, latency, and genital stages of human development. I on the other hand, have had completely different phases of development. 1-5= Happiest years of my life. 5-8= Adjusting to complete new set of circumstances; confused. 9-15= Mainly bitter. Before I was inviting the sufferance's of life, always licking my wounds. 16-onward= Perfectly resigned and learning to deal. So some wishful advice on my part, let us all learn to understand our parents a little, really listen to the words that are coming out of their mouth. They are not talking because they like the idea of one dimensional communication. They are our Eye of Horus; always looking out. I'm learning to be a better person, internally and experiencing that four letter word more than ever. The cardinal peacemaker; Love.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
The Fountainhead
I've been reading this book for the past two days now and it's really quite riveting. The Fountainhead is so different from the other books I've read because the author has come up with her own philosophy that has a clever logic to it. The whole idea of men living for themselves, men that surpass convention and success with innovation, with their creative thought and individuality. The book's protagonist Howard Roarke is developed so explicitly and with a complexity that only pushes us to rejoice in all his achievements. Roarke is an aspiring young architect that struggles to make big in a society where fresh and absolute new talent is met with scorn. People refuse to acknowledge those who create new standards, those who don't built upon what's already been done. Throughout the novel Roarke is denied the right to thrive as a modern architect because of the passion he feels for his work and his innocent selfishness. Roarke has concrete principles that are consistent throughout the story, and is inability to compromise for the sake of pleasing others is quite understandable when one sees his reasoning. Ayn Rand has created a diverse set of characters raging from the self-assured and unrelenting. As well as the insecure who depend on praise and feel the need to be put on a pedestal to be assured of their self-worth (cough cough* Peter Keating). Then there's Dominique Francon, a beautiful woman who astounds and chagrins others with her stark sincerity and her way of thinking.Dominique and Roarke are have parallel ways of thinking which consequently leads to their ambivalent relationship. I call them the perfect match. Society finds it expedient to have Roarke beg for absolution for not conforming, when really his blatant and polite indifference serves as a virtue for his character. I love the fact that Roarke's character is so austere and unyielding, he holds true to one of the many quotes I liked from the book, " An honest man, had to be of one piece and one faith; what constituted the life source, the idea in any existing thing or creature, and why- if one smallest part committed treason to that idea- the thing of the creature was dead". His character denounces all communist and altruist principles, for they are characteristics of the second-hander, not the fountainhead.
I'd recommend this book to the truly open minded reader, due some ideals of the author has manifested through her characters that could be met with grim expressions or strong objections. Quite brilliantly written if I do say so myself.
I'd recommend this book to the truly open minded reader, due some ideals of the author has manifested through her characters that could be met with grim expressions or strong objections. Quite brilliantly written if I do say so myself.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Update
Yes stressed, but there is there is a part of me that's happy. God forbid I get myself burned.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
“Send the poison rain down the drain, to put bad thoughts in my head”
Due to my lack of things to do yesterday, I spent the better part of my night watching movies and one of them happened to be Good Will Hunting. I really liked the movie, Matt Damon was awesome. Anyway the movie is not really what I want to focus on, but a song at the end of the movie that I really enjoyed. It's a song by Elliot Smith called Miss Misery, it was melancholic, depressing, and really well done. His voice is really whispery, and soothing actually, I checked some of his other songs and they were good too. The lyrics board on the suicidal and the positively eerie. I was googling him after only to be disappointed because he actually committed suicide- two stab wounds to the chest. I wonder at what point in his life did he feel that he had enough, that his existence was nothing worth fighting for; his songs are an epitome of his life. I feel terribly sorry for people that have to go through that type of war with only themselves to turn to or alcohol and drugs, like Elliot. Life is an idiosyncrasy after all, sometimes I wish I could know the architecture of the mind, in the emotional sense. Well Elliot you did leave a legacy behind: I appreciate your music.
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And for once, our universe is parallel.
