Hermits United

Doctor: And Utopia is…?
Prof. Yana: Oh every human knows of Utopia, where have you been?
Doctor: Bit of a hermit.
Yana: A hermit? With, um, friends?
Doctor: Hermits United. We meet up every ten years, swap stories about caves. It’s good fun! For a hermit.

HA! xD

Dirty Pretty Things – Truth begins

This is where the truth begins
Where teardrops glance the sallow skin
You lose your will
And I can lend you mine

The Westway wall’s so tall and bleak
Reflect the words we dare not speak
By the bottle’s end
We may have done our time

What you want is to stay away from people like me
Who twist most everything they see
And leave the grey old world behind you

So sow it up kid, have some clout
We’ll do some wine and fall about
The sun will shine again tomorrow
And look beyond the parapet
We are just bums lest you forget
We can beg, steal and borrow

Now, you said that pills would sort me out
Embolden me against the manifestations of fear and doubt
I just forgot who I used to be
So now I’m strung somewhere between a dream
And humdrum day to day routine
A laurel wreath on the door to my heart

What you want is to wash your face and try to breathe
Forget your mind and shut your eyes so that you can see
And leave the grey old world behind you

So sow it up kid, have no doubt
We’ll walk the line and have it out
The sun will shine again tomorrow

For all the friends you’ve ever met
Well, some you’ll love and some forget
Just hold on for tomorrow

So here’s to now
And all of us, we’re porcelain hearts
We tried to make a brand new start
Pray the fabric never tears apart

And some day when
We’re in the cold
There’s a semblance
We can hope, so pick a posy
And put it on your heart for me

So now I move
And if you’re in
It wouldn’t hurt just to give it a try and win
Don’t forget who you’re meant to be

What you want is to get a bike and do wheelies
I bet you can’t do them half as good as me
Throw it out, what is over is over

So sow it up kid, have some clout
We’ll go to mine and sulk about
How the sun will shine tomorrow

For all the friends you’ve not yet met
Well some would die for you I bet
So hold on for tomorrow

So sow it up kid, have some clout
We’ll go to mine and fuck about
The sun will shine again tomorrow

For all the friends you’ve not yet met
Well some would die for you I bet
So hold on for tomorrow

This is where the truth begins
And more than seven deadly sins
In living them
I may have hurt your mind

Tik Tik Tik

I want it to rain.

I don’t know why I just do. And nothing melancholic, I just feel like this is a perfect night for rain. I think I can even smell it. I know, that’s ridiculous.

Emotion is a dangerous little thing.

You go to school, you study, prepare for exams, write reports, do presentations. They exhaust you, your brain, your body. But there’s a material payment if you do those well.

And yet completing those energy-sucking things seem like such an easy task when compared to dealing with your emotion. Emotion, such sentimental emotion, taking over your head. Numbing it. Setting it on fire. Jumbling it. And it takes such a long time to put things back in order. And what do you get? And what do you get from indulging your rage and misery? What do you get from learning to control them?

Can you get a job from it? Can you earn a living? Feed yourself? You can’t. Practically speaking, it’s useless. Emotion is more difficult to handle, but it means less.

Unbelievable.

A Hundred More Years!

“David Tennant was born to wear suits….”

- by a user named gosasha on a clip of Tennant playing as regenerating Tony Blair, in Dead Ringers, on Youtube.

And all I can muster is a simple ‘Indeed he was.’

Fix You

There’s a negative image that society has of junkies, drinkers, masochists, and other kinds of physically self-destructive people.

The prejudice, of course, makes us want to keep our distance from them. It’s somewhat discriminating in a bad way, yes, but guess what, it protects us.

But I’m not talking about being safe from physical abuse. That’s probably only second in the list of risks of being close to them. I’m speaking of the emotional turmoil.

Let’s say that once you get to know them, they’re actually pretty much the same with other healthy people. You get along, you click, and before you know it, you make them your friends. Friends who deserve your care and attention. But here’s the inside scoop, the fun is only short-lived.

The order is this: First, you will pity them. Their bad behaviours are only a result of unattended personal problems. You will want to help.

Second, you get closer, you are trying to help, you think you can help.

And finally, third, you will realize that you are unable to help them. Hell if you’re really lucky you might even be pushed away. You’ll be tormented by the feeling of inadequacy, helplessness, uselessness. There’s going to be a hell of a party inside you head. All those demons you’ve managed to put in a cage all these years, they’re the hosts. And there will be guests too. A LOT. And I have to say, the hosts are pretty damn good, they can keep the party going for ages, it’s fan-fucking-damn-tastic.

It’s better not to get emotionally close with them. Their demons will marry your demons and have lots of tiny little demon babies.

The point is do not try to help someone who does not want to be helped. It’s not worth the time and energy. They are not going to get better and you are going to get bad. It’s a lose-lose situation in the worst sense.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a 108 pages of boredom to read and after that I have to return to the partee. They just opened up a new bottle of champagne.

Imported from multiply. Entry on Oct 25, 2009.

Never Judge a Book by its Cover

I have a newfound respect for Russell Brand. I’ve expressed that on two different, three now, cyber mediums.

But here’s the reason: he’s a recovering (recovered?) addict. Sex, drugs, alcohol. And this is one of the very rare occasions where I like to believe that the media is accurate.

Most, if not all, articles I read about severe addiction are depressing. They all say that it’s life-long in most cases. Bloody fucking hell it makes you want to scream at Fate’s face, set fire to the demon itself and watch it burn whilst sitting on a rocking chair and eating popcorn. Regrettably the demon is pretty much formless, as it does not exist in the physical world. But that bastard is strong nonetheless.

But I’ve strayed from what I actually want to say. I respect Brand, hell, am grateful to him because he keeps my last flicker of hope from dying out. I know, I know, it’s cheeky. But he really does. He’s not just some stats or words on some expert’s research paper. He is a living negation of ‘most.’ He’s a person I can actually see (albeit not face-to-face), a person whom I know exists, who is incidentally one of the few people I know about.

I can’t be like cruxee who is untroubled by a friend’s disagreeable quirk. We’ve both agreed that we’re two very different people. And even if I could, I’m not sure if I would want to be.
My worry is overwhelming, although it seems to be extinct for the past few months. But when it resurfaced on those few times, it was still as distressing as ever.

And this recently discovered info about Brand might ease my discomfort a bit.

Trial and Error

“We sticklers say we fear confusion of meaning but it’s the feeling that we’ve learnt and obeyed a set of rules that doesn’t matter that really spooks us.”

- David Mitchell on correct grammar and punctuation, narrowly speaking. The actual subject of the article is, I can only guess, introduction of new words.

I know, our pride is very amusing sometimes. We can be really silly, can’t we? x”)
I’m hypothesizing that sticklers only become sticklers about their native language. I know I am with Indo, and I know some people are with their language. I suppose we all think it’s not fair to expect high precision from learners and it’s supposed to be natural for natives to master the language they’ve learned since before they can speak.

Hm, that last sentence can sound condescending on a negative day.

On a subject that is none of my business, I think Pete should hang out more with Russell Brand to absorb (only) his positive influence. Now Brand is a good example for the phrase “don’t judge a book by its cover,” assuming, of course, that all the image and info about him delivered to us by the media are actually accurate.

But I choose to believe that they are. After all, we all tend to believe whatever it is that can keep our last string of hope from snapping. Basic instinct for survival.

Green Lantern

Oih, a paper on liberalism does not exactly constitute a fun distraction from overanalyzing. As a matter of fact, it’s is the opposite of ‘distraction.’ So boring that even a party sounds tempting. But let’s not go there.

I’ve been quite rambly lately, aren’t I? Rambly and rubbish too. Do you sometimes see a big green ring when you close your eyes? I do, something shaped like a donut, only far from being perfectly-round, and dark green. Like, Batman’s Joker’s green. Thought it must have been my cornea but if that was the case, shouldn’t I be seeing two of them instead of one?

I was just thinking that it’s been quite a while since I wrote, then I checked my page and the last entry was only yesterday. I had something to write about instinct but it slipped my mind. Oh never mind, let’s just try to read again. By the by, Barrowman’s acting is not great in Torchwood. How can I tell? Because his snogging scenes did not leave me any impression. Captain Jack Harkness shines more in Doctor Who, even though the most he does there is flirting.

Want to get a haircut. Snuggling under the blanket is less easy and comfy with hair keeps getting all over my face.

Die Daleken

First of all, you should watch/hear the Daleks speaking in German, precious! Exterminieren! Exterminieren!

Second, Captain Jack is my second favourite. Barrowman! Ergh! Lovely.

A King and a Lord

“It’s like the TARDIS, it feels so much bigger once it’s inside you.”

- TBFQotY ’05, Jonathan Ross on David Tennant’s man-part, quickly followed by a defensive ‘not that I know, I’m guessing’ xD

Oh, and David Tennant on Never Mind the Buzzcocks series 23 ep 12 as the guest host, with his real accent (Scottish. Frankie!) and meanness like the Doctor have never shown before. Oh! With an Ood doing a little weird dance as a hint in Intros round. As Tennant says, “Barrowman!”