Places

Beneath the grass beneath my feet,

But above the clouds above my head.

Inside the heart inside my chest,

Within the crevices within my head.

They're all the places where people die

But places you never cease to exist.

It's the people you leave behind

That make you feel you're missed.

I love you Dad, so much. 

(8:08 06/17/2012 Daddy's Office)

The Problem with Pink and Plastic

You can't have it all. You may have a job and a man, but in one way or another the inferiority complex would drive him to the point of curiosity. The pink interiors don't help either. I guess you wouldn't see Barbie going around and supporting Gay groups, then.

In the Dollhouse, a shoot by Dina Goldstein answers the question which boggled me first when I was in my first year of college: "What does it feel like to be dumped by a boyfriend for another guy?" A scary thought indeed with me answering, "Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much given that you're not the problem. It's him." or "You're still dumped, worst case for a man." But I guess these photos would suffice for that pink spiral downwards.

I just posted three photos but look for the whole shoot here and here.

An AVP for the Public Herald

(Some parts of this video are taken from YouTube)

Monday Morning

Monday Morning

Christina Aguilera

Bionic (Deluxe Edition)

Of Pills and Synths

In pursuit of finding out who I am, I was fazed with the quick surge of Korean Pop culture due to one band (I shall not name). It bothered me to points where I got out of my usual pity-party self and realized how happy I could really be. Even my friends say they haven't seen me this happy.

Then why make a fuss out of being happy? I'd instantaneously say that this is not my usual self. Adele has been a part of my then-usual playlist. I'd mix in some Christina Aguilera for attitude and angst and maybe sprinkle some Lily Allen to sweeten the "[expletive]" pot. Maybe I was that angry or deprived. Whatever that was, I would really want to know. Ask a psychologist maybe? I have not yet come to terms to what I want to feel everyday - escaping with happiness or staying to fight some unhappy war. And deep within this war myself clashes with what I really am in the moment, happy or sad? Happy to be happy or sad to be happy because happy wasn't really me? Do I even deserve to be happy? One thing's for sure, however. Whatever this happiness is, it has redirected my attention from what could have been to what could be. It has taken me from that pit of loneliness into some fine line where I'm left to argue with myself and even reach to self-hate. Maybe I'd choose a side, but that would be days from now.

With all this pain of figuring myself out I have remembered the red pill-blue pill situation of having yourself know the truth but deal with the pain that comes with it or retract to some blissful ignorance. This made me realize how people would have wanted to forget some things in their own past. Even I have some things that I want gone. Things I've said and done. Things I knew. Things gone. What do you get from detachment from the truth? Lies, yes, but do you think that you'd still be you after it?  You wouldn't - and maybe that's everybody's point for undoing things. You could have seen something else if it weren't for that big event that changed your life forever. But everybody rises up from those moments of weakness and become stronger than they were before. Tuesdays with Morrie indicates that "If you hold back on the emotions-if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them--you can never get to being detached [from the pain], you're too busy being afraid." Then it is okay to bathe in the pain. To bask in every single agony only to be free from it eventually. Swords don't get better if they haven't been put in the hottest of flames and hit several times with a hammer. Strength is getting by and surviving when you're the one in heat and not getting eaten by flames into ash. The pain today is infinitesimal to the joy of making it out intact. And to trade them for nothing would make you weak when a harder blow comes.

Ignorance is bliss but the truth is a privilege.

Since KPop, I have eventually took a liking for electronica, a far more unusual cry from the guitar strums, piano keys and horns my iPod usually carries. And somehow I was happy, unfortunately because of the detachment from reality Pop music brings. But without it, I would've never seen the absurdity of the reason of my sadness.  Thank goodness the pills are figments of man's imagination.

Tweet Something Journal-Worthy: Twitter for Academic Papers

I never knew that there would come a day that "a little birdie" would eventually be a reliable source in anything academic. Given the state of Social Networking and Education, it would take years before people see the true advantage of the likes of Twitter and Facebook in studying. I'd be struck with lightning if I say that social networking is making my grades better. I'd rather find people to chat with or tweet how boring it is getting out of bed just to grab a bite than open a tab for that rainbow of learning. Hey, I know I'm not the only one.

Escaping from school is not an option, neither is blowing it up. So we better embrace the inevitable. And now that thesis writing is near (by about a year), I better get a move on and find something academically worthy - not to mention so weird and cool. So here it is: Twitter and Academics.

I don't even know the amount of tweets in the world, but I do know it's many, and I'm pretty sure most of it is garbage in the spectacles of education. But I guess there are a few gems somewhere and all we gotta do is dig deep.

Sidenotes are at my source.
Rules are at the source of my source.

Indestructible

Indestructible (Acoustic Version)

Robyn

Body Talk