requiem memories: beyond our dreams?
Monday, April 17, 2006
Inflatable. In the span of 3 and 7/8 days, I have come to realise that nothing ever seems to shine anymore. I have given up finding beauty in sunshiney days and endless rainbows. Instead, I find myself looking to thunderstorms and lightening dances. I find myself looking for beauty in gloom. You may think that I am trying to be pseudo-emotional right here, trying to tap into the never disappointing river of pathos to the extent that it becomes bathos. Go ahead, spoil yourself with those thoughts. I am going to be self-indulgent. Everyone is inflatable to someone and everyone has a point of inflatability that once breached, will lead to an explosion be it of a joy or anger. Well me, I have yet to find mine. I took a short journey in that span of 3 and 7/8 days and this is what I've found out. I am a cult classic if I were to be a movie - adored by little, deeply loved by a few; quirky, offbeat and a tad campy at times. I am like drum and bass, my mum's curry chicken sauce and a box of cereals with milk in it - an acquired taste. So now, I will learn to accept that fact, and move on. Now everybody can start throwing your rotten tomatoes and eggs onto the stage as I exit stage left. I will merely look forward and raise my right hand with my middle and index fingers in the air, knuckles smiling at you all. Cheers you cunts.| unendability
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