the 300.

oh! the 300th post. Masters has started, my final year of education (unless i go for a phD, of course.) which means this blog has accompanied me, spasmodically and infrequently but always readily, since secondary school childishness to the present foolish adulthood. adulthood is always foolish because we mistakenly believe we are more clever than we ever used to be. who is to say the sillyness of a child's imagination (where all options are available, and all forms of thinking are potentially correct), is not true cleverness? what we all believe now, in our present adult-ness, is that which the world has offered to us on a thousand spoons and a thousand doses and a thousand certificates of what it believes to be right/wrong. Now, only one Earth exists, in this one planetary system that revolves around one Sun. everything else is hocum, don't believe it. of course there are the scientists, who believe many other things, oh, and those who believe in God too.

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One of the most occupying things to do is an accurate personality test. And no other test has been as freakishly accurate is the one i'm about to recommend to you: the Myers-Briggs test. You can do the test here and get free answers by googling your personality type. I've always wondered why my brain jumps from spot to random spot instead of travelling along a straight line.. where I suppose things would make more sense; or one thing would make deeper sense. But I am incapable of recalling in sequence what i did every day of last week, of recalling consecutive steps in a dance choreography. I just remember snippets, which links to other snippets, and suddenly things as far apart as the universe and the mushroom become inextricably linked in some suddenly explainable fashion. Well, almost all other things i've wondered about myself and my friends was explained in the MBTI test results.

a million trains

too many people spend
too much time
desiring to be loved
and too little
actually loving.

so tired and exhausted. no, it has nothing to do with coming back at 3a.m. last night from the hockey girls reunion.. you know how french philosophers summarized existential boredom as ennui? well, its not that either.

rather, its a kind of deep-seated disappointment
at things, at people, at environments
struggling to find expression but cant
and seeps out here
in a (semi-secret) space.

been thinking about what my pet peeve is.
last night the hockers went on and on about their different irks
i share some annoyance with those, perhaps
like annoying people who stuff their faces and elbows at the MRT doors
when everyone is trying to pour out.
or really touchy people from XXXXX on the train who
have no sense of personal space.
that agitation is acute- i shrug them off and it fouls my mood.
theres a whole science around the awkwardness when personal space is infringed,
called "proxemics".

but no, not really.
that's not my pet peeve.
i asked him what my pet peeve was, and he said i don't have one.

i don't like people who are intentionally late
you can always tell.
despite the smothering layers of 'sorry',
or lack of it.


i don't like people who can't be trusted
who say they're coming
and don't last minute.

but sometimes i am those people.
maybe i don't really have a pet peeve because
peeves are externally vented
but mine are secret pets
like imaginary friends,
internally directed.

i cant stand the way i cant be angry
even if i know im right, sometimes.
i dont like many things about me
but thats alright
we're made perfect in time.

--

i think william morris said,
don't place in your room anything you don't find to be
useful or beautiful.

by that logic, many things have to be displaced.

how i organize my mind determines

how my room is organized,

which in turn influences my daily schedule,

running to the cupboard-dresser,

then out the door

to catch the shuttle bus

that always running away from me

the room is like a microcosm of my universe

which is a macrocosm of my mind

which is filled with a million trains

rushing to a million places

and never quite getting there.

oh, look at the time.

i need to rush for harp.

it annoys me that you never show up.