cerebrally speaking.

Dearest Shadow,

Many a time, i turn on my laptop and hit the blogger button. It signs me in immediately and i click the new post thingy and simply stare at the cursor. it blinks and taunts.

I noticed that i do most of my thinking on the way back home. the kind of thinking that leads you into one of those epiphanic moments. If my brain could have a voice, then it would have a deep dark beautiful voice. and it'll like classical and jazz music just like i do. and my brain will speak with utmost clarity on the most complex of issues without compromising its enigmatic and charming nature.

yes. i think brain has a life of its own. and i love my brain. and i know you think i've gone barking mad. think what you want. but its true.

sometimes, i have all these long conversations in my head. it starts from the point i say my goodbye and start walking to the busstop. which is probably why i love to travel alone. I dont like being stuck with people who make small talk. its really tiring and i find it such a serious waste of brain cells. i digress. sorry. yet again.

in one of those long conversations in my head, i came to be frustrated with myself. i feel that i impose unusually high standards on myself sometimes and i find it really difficult to change it. it feels like settling for anything less is cheap and disgusting. sometimes i have a mini cold war inside which refuses to hold up to those standards and tells me to just loosen up...that the world will not come crashing down on me.

sigh.

i suddenly thought of that cliched expression, shoot for the moon and if you miss, you'll land among the stars. when i was younger, that was my mantra. now, i'm like, what stars? who'd be dumb enough to shoot for the damn thing anyway? i'm not nasa...guess time does wierd things to your perception of the world.


sometimes i wish i can simply crawl into some of the books i read. i wish that my name will simply appear as one of the dramatis personae of the play and i can get sucked into the dramatic universe. that universe seems so much be interesting. there seems to be muliplicity of meaning in that world and no matter how we trash it, praise it or swoon over it, it refuses to listen. there is no change in the script and yet there is always a different persepective. and a different script and subtext emerge when you read it at different points of your life.


why then, if all the world's a stage and we are merely actors, that we cannot remove our make up, remove the clothes that maketh the man and get off of that stage to reach some sort of heightened awareness? I am yearning to meet the director of the stageplay and ask him exactly what my character motivations are, what are the cryptic messages hidden in my future scenes and what the subtext is. i dont even know if i will ever get any answers. sighh.


if you're already here, then, thank you. its tiresome reading my ranting. i really appreciate it. you might as well read my childish old posts....for the lack of a better word, lets just say that they are less cerebal. and no, pun not intended. its tiresome trying to negotiate all these thoughts sometimes. gotta put them somewhere.

ah well. will be off now. ciao.