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.

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.

Broken Butterflies

It's somehow peaceful to see a butterfly perched still, with wings wide open. And even the gory thought of lost wings or the sadness of incapability is overshadowed by the calmness of the set of Broken Butterflies. Inspire! Look at them here.

Broken Houses

Instead of writing a story for tonight, I decided to introduce you to some artistic photography. Don't worry! I might write one on the road and put it here for your viewing pleasure tomorrow. Going back to the art of the photograph, which is usually underrated due to the lack of skill it needs relative to painting and sculpting. But then again, a photography, like most visual art helps us see something that we might have missed or something that we bore ourselves looking at but now in a different angle or light. Hence, I present to you Broken Houses by Ofra Lapid.

Well, from what I have read, the artist starts taking photos of houses that have been abandoned and left to rot by humans, made models out of them, and photographed them again on a blank background. The result? An eerie yet homey effect; a reflection of abandonment of a person's dreams, lives, memories and regrets; and a reminder of what's left from moving on. The things you own, owned, keep, and kept is a fragment of who you are. And I myself could't come to the thought of saying goodbye to anything, thus turning me into a hoarder of memories I try to hard to not let slip away. (Note: A ticket for Enchanted Kingdom for the day I unexpectedly saw someone I know is now a bookmark to an anthology I turn to for inspiration.)

See more of the collection here. Enjoy!

Good Reads: Why I'm Sick of Adele

It's rare that you find very funny yet true bashing articles in the web. As a feature writer, I appreciate her approach on a matter that is relevant and up to date. Adele is now a worldwide phenomenon, why? It's because of her latest album, no fillers, just every word jam-packed-and-overflowing with what Irene Zutell says as "excruciating pain". Yet, given her circumstances, it's inevitable to get sick of Adele when every single time, you just feel ugly heartbroken, or you just don't have the time to sit at the corner crying over a loss so great. No one could have written the article any better. It's funny and oh so true.

Read it here!

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