It must be nice to pick up the pen and just start writing again. I was naive enough to think i'd outgrown it; this unstoppable urge to write. it didnt matter what i wrote, the point was that i wrote. But i was too naive to think that i was no longer naive. And now im back to being naive.
Nothing much has changed.
Oh but it has. But has it? I don't know. I think i have matured in certain ways don'tyouthink? But i also think i have unwittingly carved out this pretentious air of maturity for myself which has run out the course of its illusion. I have bared myself to myself again. But i dont think i've been fooling a lot of other people.
But maybe this is the illusion. And this apparent expose of myself to myself is intself a trick brought about by stress. Look there! yes there; that way lies paranoia.
Well, whatever. I have been busy. At least my level of activity has been steadily increasing. I am trying to cope but intensity levels are still rising, Captain! permission to focus on riding the wave until it reaches its peak! Permission granted.
Am i getting any less cryptic here? I can't tell
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Monday, March 15, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Wastepost
In the desert there existed a grain of sand. It was just an ordinary grain of sand, although it may have been slightly priviledged because it had the luck to be situated on the top layer of the ground; enjoying the assorted benefits of being able to roll around the endless expanse of the desert both in the gentle evening breeze and in the wild desert sandstorm; something hugely enjoyable.
It considered itself a grain of sand of the world. An intellectual grain of sand, but its peers often thought it was slightly presumtuous in this regard. A grain of sand was a grain of sand. And in the desert all you saw was other grains of sand or the stars anyway. The latter depended on whether you were on the top layer or not. But eventually, arguably, every grain of said got a chance to stay on top.
Its elders thought it naive, and quietly listened to its boasting without saying much. They considered themselves wiser, of course. And the young grain of sand resented this. But it pretended it didn't care, bacause that's how it rolled.
It saw in its elders a reflection of itself as seen by its peers. And it saw in its peers a reflection of itself as seen by its elders. It chilled out a bit on top of a freshly formed dune. Thinking about this.
It considered itself a grain of sand of the world. An intellectual grain of sand, but its peers often thought it was slightly presumtuous in this regard. A grain of sand was a grain of sand. And in the desert all you saw was other grains of sand or the stars anyway. The latter depended on whether you were on the top layer or not. But eventually, arguably, every grain of said got a chance to stay on top.
Its elders thought it naive, and quietly listened to its boasting without saying much. They considered themselves wiser, of course. And the young grain of sand resented this. But it pretended it didn't care, bacause that's how it rolled.
It saw in its elders a reflection of itself as seen by its peers. And it saw in its peers a reflection of itself as seen by its elders. It chilled out a bit on top of a freshly formed dune. Thinking about this.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Pick up fine
We travel back in time a decade or so and...
There i am, a confused teenager wondering how the whole guy girl thing works. Slowly, pop culture exposes me to the phenomenon of pick up lines and i confront the holy grail of sexual pursuit; this is what i had been waiting for, this was the secret!
I put my newfound knowledge into practice. I started off with the lame 'have i seen you somewhere before?' line at an Interact event. A series of bemused girls say mixtures of things like 'er. i dont know hmm let me think about it', 'er, have you? where?' until, jackpot! one goes 'oh yeah at drama comp right?!' (i had never been to a drama comp in my life) i say 'yeaaah, i think you could be right!'.
So this one is really pretty and im all excited and manage to carry through a conversation and get her number and promise to call her sometime. Only i was so excited to have pulled it off i had to ask her three or four times afterwards for confirmation. Just to make sure it had really taken place outside the confines of my mind.
This other time, im at a rock concert and im walking up the stairs at MKOP. There are these two girls and one of 'em, as far as i could discern, was checking me (or possibly my friend, assuming she was slightly squint eyed) out while we were going up the stairs, so i go upto them and ask the one who was looking;
'Have you been feeling kinda tired lately?'
What can only be retrospectivey described as confusion, but disguised to my eyes in the heat of that moment as charmingly aroused curiousity, passes across her face.
'Uh tired? No?'
A pause, she was obviously not wondering which lunatic asylum i escaped from; Angoda or Mulleriyawa, and then she drops the question i've been waiting for...
'Why?'
So let her have the punchline.
And lean against the bannister and look into her eyes, not a lot unlike Elvis, expecting to see that brief moment when she would melt as her walls of restraint collapse beneath a river of uncontrollable adoration.
Instead I see horror. And indignation. And she blurts out;
'Excuse me but my mom is here!'
That was probably the only thing she could think of, but she was refferring to the 'chick' standing next to her, and the scary part is that I think that really was her mom, who was leaning on the banister like some rocker chick and giving me a look as if to say; where did you get the balls??
So i followed the first instinct of wisdom, I flirted with the mom. No, not really, I walked away before any fathers or brothers could materialize. See the thing with instinct is you gotta make sure its not too influenced by the latest installment of American Pie, or you'll find yourself getting into a sticky situation, rather like that unfortunate pie in the movie.
There i am, a confused teenager wondering how the whole guy girl thing works. Slowly, pop culture exposes me to the phenomenon of pick up lines and i confront the holy grail of sexual pursuit; this is what i had been waiting for, this was the secret!
I put my newfound knowledge into practice. I started off with the lame 'have i seen you somewhere before?' line at an Interact event. A series of bemused girls say mixtures of things like 'er. i dont know hmm let me think about it', 'er, have you? where?' until, jackpot! one goes 'oh yeah at drama comp right?!' (i had never been to a drama comp in my life) i say 'yeaaah, i think you could be right!'.
So this one is really pretty and im all excited and manage to carry through a conversation and get her number and promise to call her sometime. Only i was so excited to have pulled it off i had to ask her three or four times afterwards for confirmation. Just to make sure it had really taken place outside the confines of my mind.
This other time, im at a rock concert and im walking up the stairs at MKOP. There are these two girls and one of 'em, as far as i could discern, was checking me (or possibly my friend, assuming she was slightly squint eyed) out while we were going up the stairs, so i go upto them and ask the one who was looking;
'Have you been feeling kinda tired lately?'
What can only be retrospectivey described as confusion, but disguised to my eyes in the heat of that moment as charmingly aroused curiousity, passes across her face.
'Uh tired? No?'
A pause, she was obviously not wondering which lunatic asylum i escaped from; Angoda or Mulleriyawa, and then she drops the question i've been waiting for...
'Why?'
So let her have the punchline.
And lean against the bannister and look into her eyes, not a lot unlike Elvis, expecting to see that brief moment when she would melt as her walls of restraint collapse beneath a river of uncontrollable adoration.
Instead I see horror. And indignation. And she blurts out;
'Excuse me but my mom is here!'
That was probably the only thing she could think of, but she was refferring to the 'chick' standing next to her, and the scary part is that I think that really was her mom, who was leaning on the banister like some rocker chick and giving me a look as if to say; where did you get the balls??
So i followed the first instinct of wisdom, I flirted with the mom. No, not really, I walked away before any fathers or brothers could materialize. See the thing with instinct is you gotta make sure its not too influenced by the latest installment of American Pie, or you'll find yourself getting into a sticky situation, rather like that unfortunate pie in the movie.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Truth
As they always say, is far stranger. Yesterday's sexual frustration was an amalgamation of many things put together i think. And i cannot say what for sure because i myself am not completely aware of exactly what goes on in my own mind most of the time.
Does that make me crazy? or just slightly less presumptuous?
Damn. can you believe that the lights and the AC in my office have just gone bust? have any of us got any actual idea as to how much we depend on infrastructure?
Like for example, i was dreaming the other day how nice it'd be to live in the period of the Middle Ages (or is it the Dark Ages) with all the modern amenities like vehicles and cell phones and computers and the internet for e.g. Then you could run around op/impressing the peasants and destroying the knights and slaying the dragons with kisses to rescue the golden haired princesses with RPGs. That is to say, kill the dragons with the mortars and kiss the princesses after you rescue them.
But then how long will your Defenders last without petrol? and how long will your cell phone or computer work without batteries? How can you maneuver the tough mountains on top of which the dragon lies without proper roads? Indeed how would you make a call or access the internet without proper network infrastructure?
In fact without roads, telecom networks, data networks, fixed water supplies, maintenance infrastructure such as garbage disposal, road cleanups, repair crews, trade infrastructure such as supermarkets, grocery stores, petti kadeys, trade organizations. trade agreements, financial infrastructure such as banks, insurance, finance, investment, public infrastructure like education and health, manufacturing infrastructure for a host of specialized products to meet the needs of all the other types of infrastructure mentioned above, transport infrastructure such as airports, train stations, busses, petrol sheds etc and a whole host of other things we'd effectively be lost. Plunged into chaos.
We'd be in constant darkness, with no way to get about, no way to talk to your relative living 5 kilometers away, we'll live a hand to mouth existence until the remnants of public works slowly disappear and then we'd effectively be in the jungle.
That's scary. Governments and the 'collective whole' suddenly make some sense when you think of things that way, which is all the more reason a little more thought should be given to how things are run around the place. Will you vote this April?
Does that make me crazy? or just slightly less presumptuous?
Damn. can you believe that the lights and the AC in my office have just gone bust? have any of us got any actual idea as to how much we depend on infrastructure?
Like for example, i was dreaming the other day how nice it'd be to live in the period of the Middle Ages (or is it the Dark Ages) with all the modern amenities like vehicles and cell phones and computers and the internet for e.g. Then you could run around op/impressing the peasants and destroying the knights and slaying the dragons with kisses to rescue the golden haired princesses with RPGs. That is to say, kill the dragons with the mortars and kiss the princesses after you rescue them.
But then how long will your Defenders last without petrol? and how long will your cell phone or computer work without batteries? How can you maneuver the tough mountains on top of which the dragon lies without proper roads? Indeed how would you make a call or access the internet without proper network infrastructure?
In fact without roads, telecom networks, data networks, fixed water supplies, maintenance infrastructure such as garbage disposal, road cleanups, repair crews, trade infrastructure such as supermarkets, grocery stores, petti kadeys, trade organizations. trade agreements, financial infrastructure such as banks, insurance, finance, investment, public infrastructure like education and health, manufacturing infrastructure for a host of specialized products to meet the needs of all the other types of infrastructure mentioned above, transport infrastructure such as airports, train stations, busses, petrol sheds etc and a whole host of other things we'd effectively be lost. Plunged into chaos.
We'd be in constant darkness, with no way to get about, no way to talk to your relative living 5 kilometers away, we'll live a hand to mouth existence until the remnants of public works slowly disappear and then we'd effectively be in the jungle.
That's scary. Governments and the 'collective whole' suddenly make some sense when you think of things that way, which is all the more reason a little more thought should be given to how things are run around the place. Will you vote this April?
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Regurgitate
I collapse
almost
within the reach
of the door.
Regurgitate
Falling back
marketing research
the planning gap
quantitavive methods
quality circles
what a load.
the road is blurred
need to go
on inside
to sit
to write.
The fantasy black
darkness forseen
the mental illusion
a mystery shopper
probing my mind.
cant
move
fall
back
dellsuional
faint
fade
THE MARKETING PLAN!
no no thats tomorrow
THE RESEARCH objective?
ah yes thats
more like
it,
Struggle
GET UP
MOVE
cant..
fade..
faint..
crumple...
the door..
the testtttttttttgukbf9y8 A)C6895qd8961207.............
almost
within the reach
of the door.
Regurgitate
Falling back
marketing research
the planning gap
quantitavive methods
quality circles
what a load.
the road is blurred
need to go
on inside
to sit
to write.
The fantasy black
darkness forseen
the mental illusion
a mystery shopper
probing my mind.
cant
move
fall
back
dellsuional
faint
fade
THE MARKETING PLAN!
no no thats tomorrow
THE RESEARCH objective?
ah yes thats
more like
it,
Struggle
GET UP
MOVE
cant..
fade..
faint..
crumple...
the door..
the testtttttttttgukbf9y8 A)C6895qd8961207.............
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Jujups
I'm sitting in the bus today and there's a lady sitting across from me to my right.
Suddenly she starts rummaging in her bag. The bus turns in from the bridge and i look up at the digital clock in the front. Its 8.20! gonna be a bit late to work again...
I look across at the lady, she's got a pack of jujups in her hand.
She starts eating them. One.. Two.. Three..Four..
I'm watching from the corner of my eye..Suddenly remembering that I need to try and glance through some notes while ive got some time. I look at the clock again 8.21.
My eyes are dragged back to the lady on my right. She's devouring the jujups like er, well, let's just say she was devouring them shall we?
Five.. Six..
She's delicately taking them out of the pack one by one and shaking them into the pack as if there are stray drops of sugary honey dripping off of them and she's afraid of them dripping on her shirt. In reality they are just regular sugary, colorful jujups. I imagine their rubbery taste.
Seven.. Eight.. Nine...
The pack finishes. she calmly puts the piece of wrapper ripped off when she opened it back inside. Wipes her mouth with one hand. I look at the clock again. it's 8.22.
I feel slightly pukish.
Suddenly she starts rummaging in her bag. The bus turns in from the bridge and i look up at the digital clock in the front. Its 8.20! gonna be a bit late to work again...
I look across at the lady, she's got a pack of jujups in her hand.
She starts eating them. One.. Two.. Three..Four..
I'm watching from the corner of my eye..Suddenly remembering that I need to try and glance through some notes while ive got some time. I look at the clock again 8.21.
My eyes are dragged back to the lady on my right. She's devouring the jujups like er, well, let's just say she was devouring them shall we?
Five.. Six..
She's delicately taking them out of the pack one by one and shaking them into the pack as if there are stray drops of sugary honey dripping off of them and she's afraid of them dripping on her shirt. In reality they are just regular sugary, colorful jujups. I imagine their rubbery taste.
Seven.. Eight.. Nine...
The pack finishes. she calmly puts the piece of wrapper ripped off when she opened it back inside. Wipes her mouth with one hand. I look at the clock again. it's 8.22.
I feel slightly pukish.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
That pothole on the road…
My life, usually so organized, does not function well without a target. A sort of an arrow it is. Leave it around somewhere lying about and pretty soon it’s going to get an attack of the heebie jeebies.
And I’ve got the heebies now. And a mild attack of the jeebies too, I think.
As you might know, if you have been paying attention (narrows eyebrows) I had it all figured out. I was going to get entry into my MBA, go through the VISA application in a breeze, and start a new chapter of my life abroad. Granted, I hadn’t given much thought to what I was going to actually do after the MBA (work probably) but hey, at least I had a plan and knew where it was all heading for the next year yeah? I could sit back and relax a bit.
But then the shit hit the fan. OK that’s not really true, for if the shit hit the fan, there would at least be some justification for my ultimate trust that the variables in my plan would work out. Am I making sense here? Cos I don’t think I am. To put it another way, the shit didn’t even get as far as the fan to begin with.
I had unshakeable belief that things would work out exactly according to plan. This is quite strange for me, the overbearing cynic that I am.
But to say that the ground was pulled out from under my feet would be entirely inaccurate.
No, the ground wasn’t pulled from underneath my feet. It was placed right below me just as I had reached the critical velocity and the precise point where I was supposed to pull the cord to release my parachute so to speak, in a skydiving context and faced with the lack of a better analogy. I took the leap you see, and expected the rest to just be a piece of my Grandma’s delicious ripened date cake.
Then shit happened. Or didn’t even bother to happen, whichever way you look at it.
So now I’m stuck with my mouth hanging open. Except for when it mindlessly moves to shape nonsensicalities without really producing much in the sound department. My legs have kind of lost their sense of feeling as well and are trying to move off in ten different directions at once.
Am I in shock? Hmmm I don’t know doctor, but can I have a lollipop while I think about it?
And I’ve got the heebies now. And a mild attack of the jeebies too, I think.
As you might know, if you have been paying attention (narrows eyebrows) I had it all figured out. I was going to get entry into my MBA, go through the VISA application in a breeze, and start a new chapter of my life abroad. Granted, I hadn’t given much thought to what I was going to actually do after the MBA (work probably) but hey, at least I had a plan and knew where it was all heading for the next year yeah? I could sit back and relax a bit.
But then the shit hit the fan. OK that’s not really true, for if the shit hit the fan, there would at least be some justification for my ultimate trust that the variables in my plan would work out. Am I making sense here? Cos I don’t think I am. To put it another way, the shit didn’t even get as far as the fan to begin with.
I had unshakeable belief that things would work out exactly according to plan. This is quite strange for me, the overbearing cynic that I am.
But to say that the ground was pulled out from under my feet would be entirely inaccurate.
No, the ground wasn’t pulled from underneath my feet. It was placed right below me just as I had reached the critical velocity and the precise point where I was supposed to pull the cord to release my parachute so to speak, in a skydiving context and faced with the lack of a better analogy. I took the leap you see, and expected the rest to just be a piece of my Grandma’s delicious ripened date cake.
Then shit happened. Or didn’t even bother to happen, whichever way you look at it.
So now I’m stuck with my mouth hanging open. Except for when it mindlessly moves to shape nonsensicalities without really producing much in the sound department. My legs have kind of lost their sense of feeling as well and are trying to move off in ten different directions at once.
Am I in shock? Hmmm I don’t know doctor, but can I have a lollipop while I think about it?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Searching….Imagination…can’t…find….Anything!!
Ook.. so this is inspired by Dramaqueen inspired by Dee Cee inspired by Gutterflower.
I have a thing for these kinda mind exercises and like to then sit and think about the quirky things that come out. Haven’t given much thought to the below. Doing so would have spoilt the spontaneity and originality of it. I don’t know if that’s the way it’s supposed to be done, but that’s the way I did it. Enough rambling. Here we go.
I remember everything that happened with her
I don't care a damn though (at least I think so..)
I want to move on with my life. Continuously.
I hate my ‘sucker for love’ attitude
I wonder If aliens exist
I have never seen one though
I know nothing much
And because Dramaqueen wanted to ‘stimulate her creativity even further’ which i think is a good idea, I shall try that as well:
I live for tomorrow
I desire wealth and power
I love money and beautiful women : )
I need some satisfaction!
I revel in pain and rejection.
Now that’s something to think about…
I have a thing for these kinda mind exercises and like to then sit and think about the quirky things that come out. Haven’t given much thought to the below. Doing so would have spoilt the spontaneity and originality of it. I don’t know if that’s the way it’s supposed to be done, but that’s the way I did it. Enough rambling. Here we go.
I remember everything that happened with her
I don't care a damn though (at least I think so..)
I want to move on with my life. Continuously.
I hate my ‘sucker for love’ attitude
I wonder If aliens exist
I have never seen one though
I know nothing much
And because Dramaqueen wanted to ‘stimulate her creativity even further’ which i think is a good idea, I shall try that as well:
I live for tomorrow
I desire wealth and power
I love money and beautiful women : )
I need some satisfaction!
I revel in pain and rejection.
Now that’s something to think about…
Thursday, June 19, 2008
MYSELF or…Writing the Personal Statement or….How to Sell Yourself on Paper (without a damn pimp)
Ok here’s the deal. The Whackster is actually considering moving on from the golden shores of this country to try his luck at gaining an MBA. Or a Masters in Bloody Antics. Whatever. In any case the deal is that I get quite a substantial scholarship which I would desperately need since my collective funds do not total anywhere close to the millions required, but there is a catch. Oh yes there is always a catch.
So these people at the esteemed institution I am applying for are dangling this tempting essential in my face and forcing me to write an essay of 3000 words to get it. That’s right, a damn 3000 word essay! I mean, writing about any old thing is no big deal for me as you can quite plainly see by looking at this blog but writing to win a scholarship worth 5 grand? Ouch! The very thought of it brings out the goose pimples all over me.
We are not talking about the regular ‘myself’ essay here; My name is The Whackster, I am 23 years old, I like blogging and running on the beach etc would'nt quite cut it (or so tells me this tiny little voice in my head). This requires something more articulate, something more to the point yet long drawn, something to put it short, that takes 3000 words to describe in great detail exactly why I need the money! Hell all I need is 4 simple words for that; Because I Am Poor (did I stutter?).
They are probably looking for some third world sob story riddled with the usual accompaniments; Natural disasters, political victimization, lack of essential living conditions such as food or water or lodging or all of the above, disease ridden neighborhoods where cow dung is considered a healthy delicacy etc. and they probably want you to be some brilliant genius rising up through all that muck and shmuck and proving himself against all odds to a cruel world and who, after long years of hardship, has reached the point in his life where he needs, I mean REALLY needs an MBA from this Particular institution to succeed.
I mean, I know anything is possible and I’ve had my share of fortune and strife, but that seems kinda tall right? so the deadline approaches and i am totally playing the deer stuck in the headlights here. so i need some help you see. Any tips? i will remember you when i am filthy rich. i promise.
So these people at the esteemed institution I am applying for are dangling this tempting essential in my face and forcing me to write an essay of 3000 words to get it. That’s right, a damn 3000 word essay! I mean, writing about any old thing is no big deal for me as you can quite plainly see by looking at this blog but writing to win a scholarship worth 5 grand? Ouch! The very thought of it brings out the goose pimples all over me.
We are not talking about the regular ‘myself’ essay here; My name is The Whackster, I am 23 years old, I like blogging and running on the beach etc would'nt quite cut it (or so tells me this tiny little voice in my head). This requires something more articulate, something more to the point yet long drawn, something to put it short, that takes 3000 words to describe in great detail exactly why I need the money! Hell all I need is 4 simple words for that; Because I Am Poor (did I stutter?).
They are probably looking for some third world sob story riddled with the usual accompaniments; Natural disasters, political victimization, lack of essential living conditions such as food or water or lodging or all of the above, disease ridden neighborhoods where cow dung is considered a healthy delicacy etc. and they probably want you to be some brilliant genius rising up through all that muck and shmuck and proving himself against all odds to a cruel world and who, after long years of hardship, has reached the point in his life where he needs, I mean REALLY needs an MBA from this Particular institution to succeed.
I mean, I know anything is possible and I’ve had my share of fortune and strife, but that seems kinda tall right? so the deadline approaches and i am totally playing the deer stuck in the headlights here. so i need some help you see. Any tips? i will remember you when i am filthy rich. i promise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
