1 day ago
Showing posts with label Muse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Muse. Show all posts
User-Friendly
Monday, April 07, 2008
17 Days to go for Hardy Heron!!! Yay? Nay?
I've always wondered what it would be like if I came out with blogs that had utter gibberish that no one was interested in... Not that I don't do that already, but I'm talking about complete gibberish... Like the sentence above.. or the banner alongside >>
Most of you have no idea what I'm talking about do you? Exactly... And I'm not going to explain either... I mean, sure, I could be this lone messiah for Linux amongst all you Microsoft infidels, but then you still wouldn't care... You don't have the time
I love differences... It's what makes everything so interesting and explosive... It's sort of what makes us human or animal or just somewhere in between, and it's what sets off anger, passion, hatred and trust... Imagine a world filled with a million YOUs... Yep.. pretty boring... Nobody to talk to because you could just talk to yourself...
The reason I got to thinking about differences was another blog... You probably already know which one that is... I'm not sure about trackbacks on this thing, so you'll know if I figure out... damnit you don't know what I'm saying again... So yes... Why am I different?? Airplanes and Computers interest me more than Cars and Bikes... The hottest girl on the planet would bore me in a day or two unless she was smart/interesting enough... Really... Looks do matter... but only for the first twenty four hours or so... sort of like when you get a new toy... the sheen lasts for twenty four hours... I am crazily possessive about my things... You are not allowed to touch anything that belongs to me... I will start freaking out if you hold it/'admire it' for more than five seconds...
Wow... I think my head is about to fall off... Let me tell you... five hours of need for speed is not good for you...
Filed under Muse
Goin' Places
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
That's a picture from Heathrow International.
It's quite staggering. The number of people who are traveling or going somewhere at any given time on any given day. New York, Dubai, Miami, Copenhagen, Mumbai, Oslo, Chicago, Hong Kong. Everywhere.. People just keep going and coming...
And they're so organised at it... Everything happens so smoothly and no one thinks twice about it... The airports, the seaports, the buses, taxis, cars and horses... they're all always so full. People are always arriving somewhere or are departing to somewhere.
Life is really just about that isn't it... departing from where you are right now... and arriving someplace better while making sure no one steals your bag, and you don't sit next to an "unattended" bag... I guess things used to be a lot simpler... you didn't have to worry about that unattended bag crap... Risks are like plane tickets... they cost a hell of a lot... but you never know what you might find at your destination... It sucks to fly solo...
Anywhere is okay... I'm not very intent on arriving anywhere...
I love this song... 'Sitting on the dock of the bay'... It's the laziest song in the world... Perfect for a slow sunday afternoon :)
Filed under Muse
The People in the Signs
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Before I apply for a driver's license theory test, I have to spend endless hours looking at a computer screen and answering random questions about the road and it's rules. This involves some staring at those road signs telling me of cyclists, pedestrians, trams, buses and whatnot.
These signs are actually quite interesting (yes, that's how bored I get these days), because I love extracting stories and stuff from them. I do this particularly from the road signs depicting people, and the "elderly people" sign always evokes something in me... Don't ask me why.
The UK elderly people sign that is... Everytime I see it somewhere, it I see some weird sort of shadow person on white background love, because I can see two old people bent with age, holding hands (HOLDING HANDS), and struggling to walk while the man bravely leads his woman on in front of her with a stick. I think, 'Well, he must be a very caring husband, and she the perfect doting wife to him. Just look at the way they stick to each other even after their backs are bent with struggle and age.'
Another sign is the pedestrians sign (no, not the pedestrian crossing sign). The sign makes me think of strong father figure who cares about his little girl and would do anything to protect her from the world and, well, what with so much crap in the world that's hard to see sometimes.
Okay, so there was no real point to this and I now look crazy, but does anybody else ever notice these things?
Filed under Muse
Write? Me?
Friday, January 11, 2008
It's no secret, I have no illusions... I don't think of myself as a writer, and I don't believe that any material (should I decide against shredding as soon as writing) will ever make a difference to a single mind, let alone the world. I don't think of myself as this enigma, or as a genius. That's just not me and I know what I can be good at, and what I'm terrible at. I think I'm positively great at computers, up to a certain level, and trust me, I am not boasting. It's this confidence that I have around them. I love this confidence, but say 'writer' and it's been taken too far.
Maybe dreamer...
Let me explain... When I am writing, anything for that matter, be it my latest pathetic attempt at the crime of the century (starring, as always, Mike Anderson - since bloody 12 years old), my latest 'romance novel' for luv (i think i might need a good pseudonym), or even my latest blog... I don't write to impress, and I don't write to serve any particular purpose. I write what I think, and I write what I feel. I can never ever have more than a small fraction of the world near anything I write not only because I'm terrified of being criticised, but also because it was quite simply never meant for that.
I don't ever want to be rich and famous... All I'm doing is sharing a little bit of space in my head with a few other people who do the same thing... Sure, there was a time when I aspired to be a journalist... and as exciting as that prospect was, I'm not your average risk taker... I believe in calculated risks, yes where Benefit > Cost, and thus a mathematical certainty. I write to please myself, and when I write, a whole world of possibility is thrown open... I can live a life in my writings that is not mine, and still not be jailed for it... Writing is what I do when too many thoughts run through my mind, or when too many emotions run through my heart... Writing takes me places that I have only dreamed of... Writing is the one place I become a dreamer, for neither you, nor I can be a dreamer all their lives... I could never be bothered with the pressure or the reality of real writing...
So in the end, what could I be called? A writer? A title that I could never be worthy of, moreover, a censure on my spirit I would not be able to handle. A blogger? Now that sounds brilliant... :)
Who are you?
Filed under Muse
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
