Sunday, October 31, 2010


Something that I heard somebody saying the other day really stuck with me. They said "I dont have time to look out for or worry about other people all the time. If I start caring about every single person's feelings then I could so easily loose track of my own. Why should I put the effort in and care so deeply for someone else when it's so easy for them to hurt me. Is it really worth while to allow yourself to be weakened so much by others?"

I have had different versions of this argument so many times with myself. I always seem to conclude with the same answer that would be expected of any empathetic human being. That answer that makes you feel good about yourself and makes people say "Hey, that's a nice person."

But now when I look at how that one person put it, my view has been somewhat edited. That is not to say that I am some lonesome hard-hearted-hannah with no friends only just means that perhaps I have been a little inconsiderate of myself.

I love being that person that someone turns to. I love being the only other person in the entire world that knows somebody's secret. I love feeling completely needed by someone else.

So then why do I feel like the wall around my heart should be a little higher than I initially thought?

I think that we do need to protect ourselves from a lot of things. I find it hard to believe that the people I love so much are part of that over-crowded box of things that I should watch out for. However, sometimes it is the people we love the most that we should be most cautious of. For it has been said that these are the people that could hurt us the most.

That is something that agree with. I trust some people with everything my heart can let me but I know, deep down past the denial of this fact, that they could walk away and rip a human-sized hole through my world without so much as a second thought.

But then again, we can't all go around waiting for the worst to happen. We cannot live in expectation of upset because we think that somebody may fracture our very being.

We just need to be careful...not of loving to much or having a surplus of empathy.

I think what we need to be most careful of is not living or growing in our relationships because we have some sort of trepidation of being disappointed

I guess we are all scared of something....

Like the dark
Or spiders
Or never findng love
Or being the spotlight in a room full of strangers

Or just being hurt.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Travel Bug.

I want to get away. I want to fly away.

Wouldn't that be completely spectacular. I want to escape to some remote place that nobody has heard of, or spend my days on white sandy beaches or in exotic jungles.

Maybe I just want to be somewhere where nobody knows me. Not in a "I can start over, live a new life, change my name" dramatic way. Just in a "I am a complete foreigner to this place, these people, this culture" way.

There aren't so many amazing places in the world for nothing...they are there just waiting to be discovered.

I want to go somewhere and be wowed by something. I want to fall completely in love with a place...its people, its buildings, its ways of life. That is what I really want right now.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

new week.

another sunday has come and gone and it seems that i will be entering into another dismal monday. and i dont mean to be morbid by making use of the term "dismal" but what can i say: mondays have a tendancy to make me feel like i'd rather be elsewhere experiencing a thursday or friday. or something.

yesterday started off with yet another broken window on my car.
it's almost habitual to find glass lying on the ground nowadays.
i am over hating the criminals...i just hate the fact that they get rewarded from breaking into the car. and this time they were REALLY desperate because they literally stole EVERYTHING (from my mapbook to an amp in my boot to a tiny little keyring in my rearview mirror).

so i guess it's off to the glass fitters again tomorrow.

the rest of my weekend was relatively relevant to my mood. if that makes any sense. and it also gave me the chance to confirm a few things (thanks for unknowingly helping me along) that were looming unresolved in my mind.

but for now...sunday it will remain.

Monday, October 18, 2010


i am a hoarder.

i have always thought this of myself and the happenings of today only extended my feeling of sureness on this very fact.

i am getting new cupboards you see. and naturally that means taking everything out of said storage space and relocating it no no where else but my desk, under my bed and any other suitable temporary holding.

and having all of my stuff in the open is giving me a grand opportunity to look at everything i have. which is a lot of crap. not everything...but a lot of it. i mean, have clothes from way back when when i was still one meter high with few ambitions.

and the boxes at the top of my cupboards behold even more fascinating things.
like study notes from grade 9 or lego from when i was 5 or, of course, my teddy bears that have been banished to the confines of a dusty closet.

i am not even sure why i still have some of this stuff. ive never been able to just throw something away without thinking about whether or not a will need it in some or other way in my near and far future.

and whilst i dont think i am suffering from any sort if psychological breakdown or build-up; my mind still seems to be able to make up a relatively realistic justification for what i am doing.

but for now: i will stare at the space where my cupboard usually is and ponder everything that shouldnt be in there.

Friday, October 15, 2010

books revisited.

Edward Morgan once wrote: A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy.

I am completely fascinated by the remarkable power that books have over some people in this world. Of course, different people are affected by different stories or different books in different ways; but in the end…one sole objective is so often achieved by a book: the information that our minds gather from the white pages within often stays with us long after we have read the last chapter.

Personally, I have always believed that a book is not a good one if the reader remains impervious to what their eyes have read. I do not understand the minds of those who are too lazy to think about what they are reading and who refuse to read between the lines of the spellbinding words that have been strung together.

In the words of Edmund Burke: To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting.

So many of the world's greatest thinkers were at their best in the pages of their publications. The thoughts that manifested themselves into new-age theories and ideas that people live their lives by were specifically transcribed by those human wonders to serve our very need to gain knowledge and be awed by the thoughts of another.

Albert Einstein said that: Reading, after a certain age, diverts the mind too much from its creative pursuits. Any man who reads too much and uses his own brain too little falls into lazy habits of thinking.

Although i dare argue with a man whose intelligence ranks far beyond mine, I have to disagree with him. Reading stimulates thought and imagination. Granted that when we read it is that of another's thoughts but that doesn't mean we mindlessly sit and stare at the pages of books, doing nothing to furthen our intellect.

In turn, this brings me to a question to which the answer often amuses me.
Why do people refuse to read books?

I don’t think I have ever gotten an answer to this question that hasn’t sounded like a pitiful excuse for someone who is merely too lazy to broaden their minds.
If someone cannot read then they can learn to do so. If books are too expensive to purchase then making use of a library is just as rewarding. For me, there is, of course, no true answer that would pass as acceptable.

People also may say that they do not agree with anything that is written in books. To those people I say: if you resist reading what you disagree with, how will you ever acquire deeper insights into what you believe? The things most worth reading are precisely those that challenge our convictions.

Then again, this is just me. My opinion may be of little importance to anyone else. I love getting lost in the make-believe world of literature. I love visualizing the characters of the various books that I read and the worlds in which the stories evolve. Books allow me to remain true to my already very active imagination and I frequently use books to escape. Every so often I find that I would rather live in the world of the book than that of my own reality.

I cannot help but to agree with Charles Elliot who said: Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.

Whatever the type of book and whoever the author, i take nothing away from the fact that books are amazing. I say screw the internet and all of its complexities...there is a world of knowledge in the very place that so few care to look.

Someone pointed out to me the other day how few people go to libraries nowadays. Even worse, people are replacing books with those hand-held screens that download the books from the web. People would rather choose to sit and watch television or play on their latest gaming console than sit outside or huddled up on the couch with a good book. What is television if not a source of motivation to anyone thinking of giving up their mind’s rights to have an imagination?

And although technology is equally as amazing as books, it is quite sad that with all of the wonders and advantages that continuously developing technology brings, comes a dying race of what used to be.

In my world, the novelty of a good book will never fade. If I could pack just a suitcase of books have fallen in love with then I fear I would meet a great demise.

There are many things to argue about in this world.
For now I leave you with this: If there's a book that you wish to read but it hasn't yet been written, then why not write it yourself?

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

unproductive thoughts.

public speaking...god i hate those two words. especially when they're put together to form some dreadful term i don't agree with very much.

i have to do a speech on friday and rumour has it that i am already nervous.
although i do suppose that this is where those specially formulated drugs for "relaxation" come in handy. bliss.

anyway, it seems like the more wintery-than-summery summer weather is starting to ease up. i have, however, had a bit of a sense of humour failure about the presence of this wind. and i know that it's meant to clear the city of all its lurgies that wonder in the cracks of the city...but still; appreciation for it is the last thing on my mind.

in other news:
i was at the airport today.
have you ever wanted to do that "only in hollywood" scene in which you're running through the airport, chasing after someone you love? or perhaps that other scene in which you're that crazy person who wants a ticket on the "first plane outta here."

although i can't say i aspire to be completely foolish and break all sorts of rules and bones hurtling through security barriers with blustering force to stop my one true love from leaving. or maybe im foolish for thinking that people don't do that in real life. or maybe, just maybe i havn't found that person who would compel me to do that just yet.

for now: i will dream of going far, far away.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

sunday evening.

tents. dust. friends. late nights. early mornings. alcohol. tea. food. sun. sunburn. hard floors. sleep deprivation. gas cookers. cow shit. sore heads. scary toilets. swimming in clothes. grass. two-minute noodles. games. strangers. people. crowds. lines. cold evenings. darkness. electro beats. loud guitars. voices. stages.good times.

it was a good weekend at rocking the daisies.

who ever said that woodstock was dead? it will never be repeated but that's not going to stop us from trying. the fact that shared interest can bring so many people together never ceases to amaze me.

but now...
now i am tired. and i can barely think straight.

oh sleep, my muse...if not anything than you are only a sweet infatuation of my body's stupor

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


i'm not sure what i want to write this evening.

i thought i might find inspiration in a cup of rooibos but all that is doing is telling my body that i need sleep.

come to think of it, i could write a whole blog post on how much i love tea. but i won't. although, it is good to know that when i am in dire need of something to blog about, there will always be hope within the teacup.

so for now: nothing of inspiration is creeping into my currently dull mind so i cannot leave you with anything to cogitate about.

perhaps i will just stick to ceylon.