oh please...

I am poor, I don't have a Muse, I battled a crusade of essays and I am displaying symptoms of the seven year itch. So what, whimper and cry like a spoilt imbecile who can't have his way and fret over the black holes of life??

I wonder if offering opinions here would help save the world. With all the pomp and cravings for attention, you hear terminal frequencies of cacaphony even while you're reading newsapers. Protests, killings, hackings, tradings, and hobbit bones. All the shit singing sonnets into your sedated ears, patiently turning everyone into media vegetables.

Wonder what's got into me, dealing with mountains of toys during my office hours. It is supposed to be traditionally boring, from a psychological point of view. Grown men 23 years of age don't stare at LEGO catalogs. Yes, I am a sick imp, holding those toys and talking about them to customers, with eyes of lust like the 5 year old staring at the toy with me...

Oh and the issue of the mascot? Have you tried taking free advantage of a healthy dose of TNA? Yes all you hot-blooded males, with all your suppressed fantasies and desires conveniently rationalised through online porn and self-indulged masturbation. Well, it gets hot inside those animals and you can't see clearly, but you have swarms of kids and gals fondling and loving you so badly. The best part is, you do not even need to ask for their TLC.

Oh, did I mention I adore fridays? I find that strange too, because I skip dinner and work my ass off the whole day and go to class at night. Now that's the point, if only SHE took classes on tuesday mornings instead. It would be the cure to my celestial misery with the teacher who chants more than the Dalai Lama. Unlike me, I reckon she wants to be a shrink , so the ONLY way I can really get her mind is to let her get mine.

After reading this, I found that a 16 year old brain had mused them all up. It bodes ill my brethren, even my lil brother who will grow taller than Joe Baggins says I am senile. My friend told me his senile grandma had an aesthetic edge. She hand-made 18 shaolin monks in the toilet with her own poo. That's a novelty, so dementia and autism are one and the same? I refrained from going to those extremes, but I need to look troubled, brooding, self-absorbed. You know, be a troubled soul like Edward Scissorhands.

At this point, I am too happy to act cool. Is that a problem?

Elements of an inward bliss

Slept like a pig the whole afternoon, haven't had such mundane luxuries for a long time. Conversed with a friend online just moments before this, on the issue of a quarter-life crisis, a diffusion into inertia, a deep longing for some direction and purpose.

He asked me if I was happy with my life, if I truly enjoyed the fruits of my endeavors, humble and small they might be. I sojourned for a brief reflection, and strangely I found myself giving him the answer I thought I would never be capable of admitting.

"Yes I am satisfied"

I did not have his success at academics, and my changing of course in university seemed to have been a sign of aimlessness, but God has given me a traquility within that I can never fully comprehend. All that I've done, it seems far away from what I've been dreaming of, but its enough. The collective experiences of these small steps are bringing me closer to the bigger plans in life, and I am moving on the right track.

"Being with the group doesn't excite me anymore"

The pain of the irony. It is almost a decade since we've been together. I am surprised that we could hold on for so long, and in a subtle way we are all proud of it. We have longer lifespan than teenage couples. At this point I can't say it's blessing, neither can I voice out an unanimous opinion. Everyone feels differently, although we influence each other in so many subtle ways (Why is everyone studying the same thing except me?) I feel I have allowed my wings to fly out of the cage more than anyone one of them, and to be stuck long term with these guys, watching some evolving into flightless beings, I become too harsh and critical. It breaks my heart, but there is nothing I can do. It wouldn't mean anything if they were all like me. They taught me much, and they will always be there for me, but now being with them has almost lost its purpose.

Sorry GD, once I know my wings are strong enough, I may just never come back.

In fond memory of CSN "My muse 2001-2004"
To the princess sitting across the room, "cogito ergo tum" I think, therefore you are.

A discography of online nicks.

on-line (nln, ôn-)adj.

1. Under the control of a central computer, as in a manufacturing process or an experiment.
2. Connected to a computer or computer network.
3. Accessible via a computer or computer network: an online database.
4. In progress; ongoing: online editorial projects.

A major project to gather my alter egos and variant personas through the Mendeleevian methodology. These classifications and establishments have served to trace the evolution of my ostensibly contracting cranium, which I fear may simply vaporize into a vacuum of the unknown in the years, or even months to come. It has become a self-dictated eulogy of my symbiotic relationship with an artificial communicator. Without a doubt, the fact you and all the other dependents out there can no longer live without it, is ample testament of its insidious influence. So, I have over spent bytes of saliva on this prologue, I now present to you, my apathetical audience, the "dramatis di personae" (linguistic corruption of another tongue), the elements, organisms, spells, sophists, gods that I once were, or I madly assumed I became. It matters not how much trash the rest of the bimbo bloggers or the wordsworth wannabies have ejaculated into your deluded fantasies. I make no apologies for my apathy, as I canonize the tenets of my caricatures.

MOSQUITO(1997-1999)- The growing popularity of IRC (Internet Relay Chat) marked his foray into the online community with this parasitic debut nick. It originally featured basic introductory and greeting functions, but soon gained widespread notoriety, as the 'cheeky lil boy' who talked profusely but listened blankly. The nick was originally intended to convey an element of disease, but as a chatroom predator it only made him suffer from dengue infatuation.

mo979, joey_flight, sonic^-^ ,{ricochet}(2000-2001)- Folks who subscribe to the blinking flower (ICQ) are endangered these days, but back then, it was the prime highlight of the chatroom renaissance. Speed was the ultimate glory, to him at least. Coupled with the craze over the Sydney Olympics, and his passion for burning rubber on red tracks. He idolized Michael Johnson and Maurice Green, but lacked their legs of steel. His shins almost snapped, his studies suffered from political sabotage and he lost the most sensational love of his life. Nevertheless, he continued to abstain from his freakish fancies and friends, and maintained a cult following of 'mei mei' who adored his quiet,brooding, detached behavior.

DaBard, Ja-EL (2002-2003)- The dark ages (NS) and the fall of ICQ brought grave detriment to his approval ratings, but it did not prevent the reincarnation of his most formidable talent-writing With the feature of DaBard, he defied conventional norms and expanded horizons of creativity, challenging the literary frameworks of other local personalities. He recorded the annals of his empire, and immortalized his Muse, though she labeled him a lunatic. He became withdrawn and intropsective, but it was through such deliberate psychic moods that dark,insane ideas of poetry were born.

Joel (2004-2005)- The ultimate definition, without thereatrical embellishments. It was simply a staunch acceptance of his identity on MSN. A normal, frail human who had a death-defying imagination. He indulged in simplicity and basic ideas, but weaved them into the intricacy of the Da Vinci code. It finally earned him the long coveted "Ming empire achievement award", something which he always says, "comes from the long hard road out of obscurity" Nuff said.

"Letter to a princess", witten by the Royal Jester (2005 A.D). In his teachings of chinese poetry to his pupil the White Lee. It was meant to be a gift to the Snow Princess on her 21st birthday, but the original manuscript was burnt during the inquisition by the Emperor. This was re-written word for word by his student who opened a school in his name.

秋月微笑迎深夜，

肺腑之念已数月。

此女乃是绝艳秀，

敦情之恋刺心处。

公主未知疑性重，

卦人祗能隐作痛。

秋月渐消昭明日，

梦在寺里非缺字。

The clutches of anxiety

No matter how good I deem my work to be, a pessimistic premonition still resides behind my head. I want to shake it off, but the remote possibility just won't go away. Fear has been intergrated into the transmitters that sting my synapses, and it needs a stimulant to neutralize it, that is how my innate rationalization adapts to the harsh environment. It is a world that spares no thought for your exuses, and failure is to fall back into obscurity.

Desperation must not blind the pleasure of the chase, nor the patience of waiting. On this note, I am not in want, although provocation may just cause me to plunge carelessly. It feels like a young cheetah preparing for his first kill. It hides beneath the long yellow grass, watching the graceful gazette rest her weary body on the fields. It knows that she must not be wary of it, thus it waits in the silence, eyes ever focused on the prize of his game.

This just came in: Dorks are back in demand. Intelligent women, not the bling bling bimbos, are taking a serious interest in dorks. A rough overview on the DORK characteristics.

The bad stuff
1) Average looking (most times worse)
2) Boring hobbies females cannot relate to (play computer games and play soccer)
3) Get desperate because all their friends are getting hitched
4) Quiet in public, since they sit closely with the charismatic leader
5) Unromantic, born with deformed hint sensors
6) Will NEVER make the first move unless in life and death situations
7) Copy their friend's dating formula and hope that it works
8) Lack of esthetic tastes. Everything everyday is "sian" (boring)
9) Myopic, both physically and emotionally
10)Can't dance, thus at clubs they learn to drink very well instead
11)Think a girlfriend's career path is to be their wife and 'REAR" their offspring
12)Traditionally chauvinistic
13) Do not understand Shakespere, can't write love letters or poetry

The good stuff
1) Blur in a cute way
2) Honest (most of them are an open book)
3) Like listening to chinese love songs or cheesy ballads for inspiration
4) Secretly wishes that what happen in the movies will happen to them too
5) Dependable, they will ALWAYS be the breadwinner
6) If they say those three words "I love You", they really mean it.
7) Because they have been practising for hours
8) NEVER impotent. They are healthy virgins.
9) Highly monogamous-will never be share themselves with other gals
10) Will let the girl do most of the talking on the first date
11) Rarely have any weird fetishes
12) Common vocations: engineers, military, business (not those marketing yuppies).
13) Believes in buying lottery but will take her on a good holiday if he strikes.

Intermission v3- Confessions of an alter ego

I am perplexed, but never passive. The focus has shifted, well not entirely. It has moved, because the flower of my imagination has taken on another form. I am finally retrieving the passion I thought I had lost, that simple desire to burn before it dies. I have withered in the melancholy of infinite sadness for too long, and it nearly drove me insane.

It is time to stop living in the shadow of other's expectations. You will never know what freedom you can enjoy once society's taboos have lost their hold on you. Unconventional defiance for totalitarian recognition. Think about it, that's what the greatest people did during their lives.

I saw her again, and I think I am a staunch convert of minimalism. No painted face of porcelain nor garments of glamour and gold. Fair, quiet, studious and that reclusive isolation she takes upon herself. A thousand woes in her eyes, all secrets spoken in silence, in her own tranquil simplicity.

Just the way I like it, when I almost figured there wouldn't be a second coming.

"Blessed with talent, cursed with ugliness"-The creed of Jekyll and Hyde

Yes, finally the sequel has been successfully scripted at Supernatural Psycho. I won't encourage you to read it , especially if you detest arcane teachings. I had to do it, to preserve the sanity of my soul before the it succumbs to the disease of self, which runs through my blood.

Watched a couple of bear mascots molest young adolescents who thought they were cute, and I wondered how an aspect of childish innocence could be turned into lecherous frivolity. I had to convince myself into thinking they were just animals, like what they show in the Discovery Channel.

Alone in my thoughts tonight. Ideas spinning in solitude, and I can scarcely recall the last time I confined myself to such emotions. Alone but not lonely, my senses synchronise their rhythms. That was the wind I caught in the chase, when no one believed in me. It gave me nothing, yet it meant everything.

There is nothing I want from the Old World, the ones many of you belong to. Expectations are no longer existent. There will be fond memories, but there comes a time when loyalty and influence no longer form the foundations of friendship, no matter how much love and sorrow one used to have. I may have been selfish in my ambitions, but as I watched the ones I love trapping themselves in the thorns of their troubles, smiling in pleasure and telling me that there is no way out, a part of me just felt like falling away.

I hate mediocrity, thus I took the road less travelled. Psychology will tell you its the Napoleon Syndrome, but it was not something I always wanted, or I thought I had. Perfection was my aspiration, a simple goal to become the best with the passion I had. The past had spoken, every single chapter brought itself to this end. The opportunities given to me was never a direct result of free will, but a plot unraveling by itself, driving me to become what I was born to be.

That is Enlightenment, and you should search for it, because it is the only thing that ever matters.

I never knew gals like angelina jolie were my type....hmmmz

The Cure for the Common Man

Cynics always feel romantic comedies are urban myths. All improbable pomp and chemistry without the downsides of failed romance that reality has to offer. It breaks my heart to see my closest friends burn the prospects of loving relationships to the ground, just because they think they are dorks. The movie Hitch, however was the funniest and most inspiring one I have seen in years.

So what if we are born into a materialistic generation? Who cares if the hot babe who lives down your street likes rich beefcakes who drive fancy sports cars? I will be honest with you, I look at myself in the mirror at I see the word "DORk" written on my forehead. You wouldn't guess but apart from the fact I'm not horizontally challenged, the rest of the physical and habitual similarities to Kevin James are there.

I guess what Hitch advocated was a spot-on. It's not about who you are or what you have. It really is about what she wants. And if she fancies the fact that you carelessly stain your shirt with mustard cream or stutter whenever she's around, all other seemingly good qualities just can't seem to shine under the spotlight. "It's all about the basic principles." She thinks all the time about being swept away one day. All you need to do is be there when the time comes.

Back to the root of OUR problem. Yeah, the fact we can't get the luck that Will Smith says we can. It is clearer now, right? We've been looking at the wrong angle all the time. We ALWAYS think we're not handsome enough, not rich enough, not tall enough, not romantic enough. It is just like falling, we take the plunge and pray to God that we will be able to fly, and we always think we will just land on our noses and bleed our broken hearts to death. But how would you know if you're not brave enough to take the plunge? Now that I've seen it, I kinda realized we actually exaggerated our fears too much

Actually the cure is pretty simple. Be calm, be yourself and make her laugh. Doesn't get any more basic than that.

Royal Jester announces development of a new religious blog
-1212AM 0403 2005

After weeks of careful deliberation, the royal jester has finally confirmed civilian specualtion of another upcoming blog and feedsite. In a press conference this evening, he issued a formal statement indicating his intention to develop another blog to provide coverage for his religious reflections.

"It is something that has been going in my mind for a long time, and I'm mentally tired of all the carnal shit and politics going on in the empire." he said

Considered by many as the most controversial figure in the empire, the dimunitive comedian began his career as a eunuch in the East chamber, serving many distinguished dignitaries without actually being castrated. After winning a string of treason lawsuits filed against him, he went on to hold several appointments that no one else could take on, including the royal scribe and naval admiral. His current website, 'Atomic-Symphony', is presently the official library of ancient histories, housing more than 80 volumes of events he recorded himself.

When asked about his rumored renunciation of his Muse, whom he kindly declined to name, he replied, "The forbidden city is a wonderful place, and it only proves that cliches do come true. but how much can one feed on an idea that rightfully isn't yours? What is the point in holding onto something that is so wrong?"

According to him, the new blog would be a 'significant breakthrough to his broken past' and that it will become a 'new avenue to explore wider horizons of spirituality'. The name of the site will be launched this summer.-Empire Press

Audio feed-New Radicals, Someday We'll know

Just got back from a long day at work, and I feel like a kid all over again. That only means I want to open a museum of toys.

The simplest things in life teach us the essential lessons. Their easy to know and understand, with simple layouts in our logical minds, until we have to apply them according to the dynamics of a given situation. So we skip that part, and make it dogmas and disciplines, and a long list of mandatory dos and don'ts. In the end, we train ourselves to be like our own pets, forever doing but never comprehending.

Our minds have evolved since God made Adam and Eve. Relatively speaking, we are much smarter than they were in Eden. The crux is, our capacity for self-destruction has increased exponentially, making us closer to the end with every single numerical progression of time. The line between genius and madness is slowly fading in an infinte blur, but I fear that we have crossed it generations ago.

Homosexuality is a ludicrous prodct of a corrupt cosmopolitan society. Genetics becomes a pathetic excuse for it legitimacy, which I can gladly condone if we were living in a time when women were not allowed to vote. What's so glamorously hip about loving a biological entitiy with identical genitals? It simplys constipates the intensity of sexual pleasure, and it shames our birthright as species with souls.

I'm not perfection. I'm short, racially mistaken, freakishly mocked at, verbally vulgar, sometime spineless and a full time charlatan fascist. I sometimes question if I am truly forgiven, and the elements of what mother nature is made of always serve as a timely reminder. There is nothing to ask, its always been there.

To be born on the threshold of a generation, and watch the younger ones languish in supeficiality or waste away in total decadence. To die by 30, they always say, like the ancient Norse Gods who anticipated that the sky would always fall on their heads, depsite all their divine powers. It seems that they have lost their grip on reality to transcend the physical endeavor for the better life, which those who came before them seemed to believe in.

If you ask me, a glimpse of immortality is all it takes, to make me go on forever.