dimsum is good for the soul. especially when you used to be allergic to shrimp. radiohead once said, "just because you feel it doesn't mean it's there."
i wonder if the opposite is true - just because you don't feel it doesn't mean it's not there. i'll eat my cockroach of the sea nevertheless. what me worry? the worst that can happen is to die happy. chalk one up, for death by dimsum! happy easter greetings. :)
what a crappy day. and i don't foresee that the next couple of months will be quite peachy at the hamster wheel. what bothers me is knowing that the next steps will be short bursts without allowing me much distance nor momentum to propel foward. that the details will start to eat me up in the struggle to keep afloat in the bigger picture of things.
the days when you come home with a genuine smug of contentment are far and long in between.
and in between dreams i struggle to see in color, hear in prose, and walk with purpose and rhythm. the wonderful thing, is that the world can afford you that. the minimum of which, is what you deserve. or maybe that's just my card of hope in a soiree with the aces up my sleeve. pony up, let's up the ante.
a big yellow machine built your house. in a vast world ruled by economics and nomenclature. snap! goes a picture. here soon will lie a new beginning. here soon will disappear an end.
when there's not much, i hesitate enough to possibly falter. where there's little to do i stand back and wait until the sense of urgency fills to fuel my flames. i think i need a bigger hand on these projects of the hamster wheel. sometimes, mediocrity and passive days isn't my style.
the world offers disenchantment, dreams to dissapate by the dozen, and the best things in life that flash in the bat of an eyelash. no matter how much we succeed in playing by rules deemed legit, it's easiest to end the day by romanticising our trivial pursuits. there's always a glimmer hidden in the trenches of our weary souls.
i can't believe i shat my pants on the way back home.
i just couldn't.. hold it... in. my hands were so damn cold, and damn f cking rush hour los angeles i hate you i hate you i hate you traffic dammit i had to go so bad!
and now the car smells like nothing i've ever smelt in my entire life...
WHY ME?!?!?!??!?
eleven, twelve, thirteen hour days.. and it's only a wednesday- i've already covered all three. this job is awesome.
how do you manage your enterprise risk?
i need a beer. now.
i'm tired already - and the week hasn't even started yet! this'll be a long one.
i've been working on other side projects, to keep my sanity in check from the professional hamster wheel. it's a differing kind of fulfillment, when we start to create things with our own bare hands, construct widgets and what-nots from thin air. art lives outside the fax machine and the post-its. unless post its are a repository of office haiku...
as calvin once told hobbes in jest, "quick! to the bat fax!"
i don't know about the rest of you fools, but i think i've got the awesomest possumest girlfriend i can ever ever ever ask for! although i'm a sentimental cat, i'm never really cheesy unless the occasion warrants. watch out for the store!!
the faster we go, the stronger we hold on tight. to the surroundings that bind us, to the steady blur of images across. and when the last ounce of strength is lost to the wind, eyes are fast to close into the darkness. but for those that take the risk, a ride is offered on the wings of the wind to places unseen, unheard, unknown... when you let go.
i've been blogging for 38 months.
of thoughts and actions
of songs and laughter
of nothings and everythings
of the familiar smells
and the foreign chills
of a racing pounding
beat that doesn't stop
that doesn't sleep
that doesn't end.
and sometimes i fear it would all end
that the day comes when everything's too familiar
that everyday comes and nothing's a stranger
but we keep reaching farther
stretching from the unreachable depths of our toes (cmon, try it)
to climbing the horizon that never ceases
and in the littlest of things we find
that 38 months isn't enough
for a beat that doesn't stop
that doesn't sleep
that doesn't end.
