Deluge

It's the season of torrential rains, as I struggle to keep afloat, wave after wave of work come crashing down on me. And the flu is just icing. How can I ever clear my load? No exercise, no studying now. Just tuition and marking. The misery of life.

The Blue

Welcome to the Blue. The Blue is a state of mind where you have no qualms, no restrictions or delusions about your existence and your path. Your state of mind controls everything and works only in your interest.

Where the Red and Black is a state of unbridled violent cruelty, the Blue and Black is a state of passive, disinterested cruelty.

The pure Blue is that unafflicted state of maturity and epitome of power and knowledge. Welcome to the Blue.

What a show!

What a show everyone put up. Almost everyone behaves in the conformist way and the outcasts get lambasted. When did color become an issue? Why must everyone be that atavistic? Color is an exemplification of my philosophy, my character, and to change that is the equivalence of depriving me of my self. I shouldn't be giving it up for the sake of petty traditons.

I dislike it, but now, I hate it. No wonder they say a person can really affect your perspective towards an issue.

Yet again

Drudge begins anew
I thought I knew
That life is a bleah
Not being here, not being there

Season's Greetings and a Ho Ho Ho

Christmas is a time of sorrows, where we are constantly reminded that Christ died so that there is no entropy, and we have no end to our misery in life insofar that we have to continue it even if we are dead.

We give presents to one another to comfort ourselves only to find out that we have absolute no use for the things that we receive, and it ends up in the storage room, the purgatory of inanimate objects, before we assign them to the dustbin.

We put up trees, decorate them in a bid to cheer ourselves up, except that the glittering and shining cast a darker shadow over us when we stand at the foot of the green monstrosity. And we wonder how much money and time was spent to put that all up, only to lug it back to the storage after everything was concluded, depriving the people of any further meaning. Meanwhile, another tree was killed for our 'pleasure'.

Year after year, we are cursed to repeat this sacrilegious practice and to complete the horror, welcome the dreaded new year where I inch closer to my grave, seeing it but not able to step into it, despite the assurance by friends.

Small wonder Santa Claus says 'Ho ho ho'.

Simple feat

Everything sucks. Big time.

Once more, my friend, once more

Despite the dictionary explanation of the term 'quaser', the word is easily confused with 'goals' or 'aims. But 'quaser' is more than that. It is a synthesis of 'goal' and 'meaning to life' combined. It is a state rather than an event. One cannot say my 'quaser' is to have a dionysian party replete with sex and booze. It's a 'goal', definitely, but no quaser. A quaser is a state of the situation that completes a person, a source of the answers to the purpose of a satisfied, content human being. Job fulfillment is a quaser. A spiritual quaser, so to speak.

I had the opportunity to be ridiculed over this invention, but nevertheless, the word 'goal' seeks to be reinvented for its lack of sufficiency in this aspect. It is thoroughly hoped that whoever out there is reading it, finds his or her quaser and thus finds harmony in their lives, for all the discontentment out there in the messy reality of life.

Surprisingly, all these are coming from someone who looks at the mirror everyday and wondering when the bodily husk is going to change.