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Thursday, 20 March 2008

I'm bringing Xanga back - drop a comment if you're with me!

Friday, 12 October 2007

Boyfriend Problems

On Wednesday during English class, our professor was discussing about wants and needs and the difference between the two. "What is a want?" he asked us.

I raised my hand up. "A want is a satisfaction of a desire," I answered.

"Thank you Nietzsche...but not the answer I'm looking for," he said. "I want something specific, a want," stressing on the a. "An example!"

I said the first thing pops into my head. "Uh...a boyfriend?" This choice of example had not randomly been picked. Before the class' discussion had led to wants and needs, the professor had mentioned how most girls dressed up mainly to attract a boyfriend. So when he asked for a specific example of a want, with my mind remembering that, I replied "boyfriend".

I must've been thinking about something else at that time because the whole class laughed at my answer. Later on, my friend pointed out that they may have seen where I got my answer which was why they laughed. It didn't bother me that much and I put it out of my mind after class.

Today, before class started, my professor walked up to me. "Y'know in my family we have a Christmas tradition every year, where we would put up our Christmas wish list on the refrigerator door," he told me. "Do you know what I put up on mine for the last 15 years?"

"No..." I said hesitantly, unsure where this was going.

"Girlfriend," he said. "Just thought you'd like to know that." He walked away.

It occurred to me later in the day that this was my English professor's attempt to connect to me. Did he think that my mind was as desperate on finding a boyfriend as he was for a girlfriend for the last 15 years? Was he labeling me as love-hungry as he once was? If it hadn't been for my professor's last sentence, I would've thought that he was simply telling me a funny story. That last line though meant that the story was supposed to hold some significance for me.

Thursday, 04 October 2007

Another year later...

Actually it's been a year and 3 months later...but who's keeping count anyways? I think that what little blogging I do will go solely to livejournal. I'm giving up on xanga now...maybe I should delete my account? This leads me to wonder is the space of the Internet infinite? How does one make "room" on Internet for another website?

Have the urge to format my livejournal page, but since I should be studying for my economics midterm for tomorrow, I settled on changing out of the drabby greyness and switching to the nicest background that was for free. Why do all of the pretty ones have to be paid for?

I would describe going to university similar to Plato's "Allegory of cave" (something recently learned from political science which is the most interesting course out of everything else I'm taking). I've renewed my interest in writing again and re-looked at my previous story ideas. Massive editing is being done, but is no longer a chore anymore. Taken to drawing out scenes and characters and drawings (if pictures-that-look-like-they-were-drawn-by-my-right-hand can be considered drawings).

Yay! Found a fellow Heroes fan in Alley!

-RitP

Saturday, 08 July 2006

Wow! Haven't been on here for nearly a year!

Was reading this book for some light summer reading...and found something which describes the stages of my writing process perfectly!

After some editing was done to it.

1. Procrastination.

2. Self-loathing re: period of time spent procrastinating.

3. Panic.

4. Hypochondria - triggered by extra adrenalin formed during Stage 3 Panic and aided by hours spent on the internet analyzing "forgetfulness" and "fatigue".

5. Fatigue.

6. Burst of creative energy so overwhelming it occasionally required years of recovery but has the fringe benefit of producing a voluminous pile of paper that can be turned into a story either by large amounts of editing from supportive friends or from the author themself who is being forced to by dominating, bossy friends.

7. Writing reduces back to natural form as piles of paper.

8. Go to stage 2 and repeat cycle.

I'm never going to write anything that will see the light of day and will most likely find a brown-boring-dusty-desk job which I will do for the rest of my life until retirement and spend my spare time being bitter and angsting over what a bad writer I am.

I really hate birthdays.

Saturday, 30 July 2005

It's a hot summer's day and at 2:00 p.m. the temperature has gone past 30 degrees Celsius. The traffic on the streets is nearly non-existent as everyone is indoors, either hiding in their cool basements or sitting close to their fans.

Benjamen unfortunately does not have a fan or a basement to cool off in.

His house feels like an oven, the air warm enough to bake bread. The windows are opened wide, in hopes of catching a breeze. It's not the heat which only bothers Benjamen though, it's the boredom.

The television has finally decided to die, after ten years of working sporadically, and there are no books in the house which Benajamen has not read at least four times. He knows he should be studying for math, since there's a quiz eagerly waiting for his return to summer school tomorrow, but he can't summon the will to open his textbook. There were places which he could have gone to, like the community pool, library or the movie theatre, but if he could sweat in rivulet just sitting inside his house, he did not want to know what would happen if he went outside.

He lay on the wooden floor of his kitchen, finding it to be the least heated area of the house....

I've run out of ideas now. Probably will continue this on another hot summer's day.