This is it. As we began, so we end. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
This blog has seen me through some great and ghastly times. For that, I am thankful.
Life, love and loss. I have come to realise that there are few (if any) things with a greater bearing on one's psyche. Money can be earned; time can be made, but an opportunity lost is gone forever. Still, one should not pine needlessly.
I am grateful - for those who are decent enough to be just that - decent. You're few and far between, but it's nice to know you're around. Good work, chaps.
If, perhaps someday I should resurrect this blog, I'd be curious to see how/whether it would change (dramatic or otherwise).
I am blessed to have had the opportunity to share some thoughts and experiences online.
Happiness may sometimes seem a fleeting thing, but I assure you - it exists. Perhaps someday I shall have the courage to find my own. There's no question that my nature shall drive me to the brink of insanity in my hell-bent quest to grasp at that fleeting remembrance of lost hope. Struggles and trials are part of life; one does not simply bow and accept the executioner's blow - one fights! One fights tooth and nail to the very bitter end for one's freedom, dignity and (pardon me) pride/belief that life doesn't have to be a heartbroken plea for mercy. Yet, if one should fall in that struggle - it is for us to bravely stand tall and thrust out our necks with pride - let the blade fall, for I shall never surrender my goals!
I have been so lucky in my life, so blessed and so cursed. I choose to live happily, to strive and never give up.
For now, I shall endeavour to be a nice person, to help others, to cautiously but boldly stand on principle, to tolerate and find compromise, to be humble, to encourage, to search and learn, to live - and love.
I remain, ever devoted, eternally and humbly yours,
Jason Ho
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Penultimatum
Tomorrow we drop the precious into the lake of fire....the precious will be gone....forever....
Learning to let go. It's like giving up, but it's never that simple. One works on the premise that it's bad to give up, after all 'winners never quit and quitters never win'. That said, it depends on WHAT you want to win. Which prize matters more - what sacrifices do you have to make in order to achieve those goals? Different priorities nag, but they are unavoidable. Sometimes you can't have your cake and eat it - I tend to try to do this but it often ends in tears with crumbs on my chin and chocolate frosting on my jacket. "It could only happen to you, Jason!" echoes the familiar reproach...
We choose who we are; our facades (I would madly argue) can sometimes be part of our identities, whether unwelcome or not. I shan't make any apologies for myself.
It is with a more than heavy heart that reality sinks in - and reality, to put it plainly, sucks. It sucks the juices out of you and drains your essence into a puddle which causes you to slip, bang your head and fall prone on your deflated ego, crushing any vain hope of a chance to redeem what might have been.
In this insane hubbub of work-fuelled madness I can only try, yes, try to bring myself away from that chasm of insanity. Here we are again, back at the same old, same old - almost exactly a year ago. Looks like the precious hasn't made much progress.
What do you do when you sing out of tune? You buy a tuning fork and practise. The problem is that I'm not tone deaf - I can hold a note - rather, the cacophony bashing away within my mind is slowly diminishing all that I try (vainly, unfailingly, but unsuccessfully) to do.
Those microtubules need much more attention; goals have always been set but boundaries, I fear, have been moved. Luckily, the good old checks and balances haven't failed me yet - I can recognise problems and squish them to a little messy pulp. The goal. The goal. The goal. The end. The end. The end. The end is nigh, time is short; courage gives us hope - to endure, outwit, outplay, outlast and overcome.
Learning to let go. It's like giving up, but it's never that simple. One works on the premise that it's bad to give up, after all 'winners never quit and quitters never win'. That said, it depends on WHAT you want to win. Which prize matters more - what sacrifices do you have to make in order to achieve those goals? Different priorities nag, but they are unavoidable. Sometimes you can't have your cake and eat it - I tend to try to do this but it often ends in tears with crumbs on my chin and chocolate frosting on my jacket. "It could only happen to you, Jason!" echoes the familiar reproach...
We choose who we are; our facades (I would madly argue) can sometimes be part of our identities, whether unwelcome or not. I shan't make any apologies for myself.
It is with a more than heavy heart that reality sinks in - and reality, to put it plainly, sucks. It sucks the juices out of you and drains your essence into a puddle which causes you to slip, bang your head and fall prone on your deflated ego, crushing any vain hope of a chance to redeem what might have been.
In this insane hubbub of work-fuelled madness I can only try, yes, try to bring myself away from that chasm of insanity. Here we are again, back at the same old, same old - almost exactly a year ago. Looks like the precious hasn't made much progress.
What do you do when you sing out of tune? You buy a tuning fork and practise. The problem is that I'm not tone deaf - I can hold a note - rather, the cacophony bashing away within my mind is slowly diminishing all that I try (vainly, unfailingly, but unsuccessfully) to do.
Those microtubules need much more attention; goals have always been set but boundaries, I fear, have been moved. Luckily, the good old checks and balances haven't failed me yet - I can recognise problems and squish them to a little messy pulp. The goal. The goal. The goal. The end. The end. The end. The end is nigh, time is short; courage gives us hope - to endure, outwit, outplay, outlast and overcome.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Triumph and Tragedy.
I have won; I have lost. I am not joyous, nor is my heart broken. Nothing happened - do I count that as regret? Starstruck no longer; reality bites and I haven't even seen it! Tomorrow is now today (almost exactly a week later).
Inspiration lost and yet regained. Fate is cruel and yet generous. The snow will have melted by the morning but I know I am myself again. That alone shall be counted as a welcome relief. Time to build stronger walls.
Inspiration lost and yet regained. Fate is cruel and yet generous. The snow will have melted by the morning but I know I am myself again. That alone shall be counted as a welcome relief. Time to build stronger walls.
Monday, February 21, 2005
3 days to go... - Insecurity
3 days before I sign off forever, so it's time to write in earnest.
I think I'm a fundamentally insecure sort of person. I fear far too much and give too many second thoughts to what I derisively term 'face-value'...
Now for some crunchy stuff.
Banana = an 'overly-westernised' Chinese person.
It snowed this afternoon and I was stuck in a tutorial session on adverse drug reactions, glowering at the window as I prayed for those minuscule flakes to keep pouring down so I might dash outside and flounder like a foolish 19-year old in the mushy white pavement coating. It melted. I was too late. Perhaps some other time...
I still remember being 13, yelling "It's snowing! It's snowing!" to a bunch of terrified Americans during a Latin 'popquiz' long ago as I clambered atop my desk during a Massachussetts snowfall. Silly fool, Jason. A smiling, happy, innocent, silly fool. I remember Norman Wainwright passing me a couple of 'snow-seeds' as I tearfully left 55 Millfield St. Throw them in your back garden and snow will soothe your sorrows. Unfortunately:
1) I lost the 'snow-seeds'
2) Singapore with snow? A physical impossibility.
3) I completely forgot about them soon enough.
Then there was that wonderful day a couple of years ago at Westminster when we had an inch of snow - oh the joy of it all! I could just burst from the sheer happiness of the thought. A dusty white covering that gives the soul a nice clean covering, at least for a while. Lost in the winter joy. Few things can compare, even when your gloves are drenched and your old leather shoes sodden.
Insecurity again.
"You'd make a great Dad, Jason. You'd just confuse the living hell out of your kids with big words." Sarcasm? A compliment? A friendly jibe? Don't over-analyse, Jason - it's just an expression. If I take what people say with 100% confidence in their full earnestness - I'd be a lost case (possibly already am). Not to do so would imply lack of trust. Then again, why do I even care about this? There are so many other more important things to worry about...
What am I doing this summer? Exams? The play, which is next week? Boutonniere deformities? Home? Keeping up with the Joneses (everybody, really)? The adequacy/lack of/overdoing my dietary intake? Friends (or lack/mistrust thereof)?
Sometimes the sheer complications bog me down so much - I just long for that nice, happy time...that dreamy (probably non-existent) long ago - of naps, snacks, hugs and competing with my brother at card games. That's life - we can't have it all.
Then there are worries - the future - what does it hold? The more questions one asks, the less likely the answers are to satisfy. The pressure - it boils up, one procrastinates, time dwindles until we are a mere streak of our former selves as the sundial's shadow creeps towards the end we fear. Losing inspiration to 'get on with it' - the drive is fading. Strength, O Lord, strength and courage to endure!
I tell people that life is peachy. Red and inflamed, yes. Soft and juicy, no.
The mind is a network of jumbled thoughts - there is only one thing to do. Grit those teeth, grind that feeble enamel and steel ourselves for the night ahead. No other way. Enjoy every moment of it and just remember that the big, bad world is beautiful still.
Confusion reigns, Destiny calls, mindless pains will cease as night falls.
Remember - hope springs eternal. I hope.
I think I'm a fundamentally insecure sort of person. I fear far too much and give too many second thoughts to what I derisively term 'face-value'...
Now for some crunchy stuff.
Banana = an 'overly-westernised' Chinese person.
It snowed this afternoon and I was stuck in a tutorial session on adverse drug reactions, glowering at the window as I prayed for those minuscule flakes to keep pouring down so I might dash outside and flounder like a foolish 19-year old in the mushy white pavement coating. It melted. I was too late. Perhaps some other time...
I still remember being 13, yelling "It's snowing! It's snowing!" to a bunch of terrified Americans during a Latin 'popquiz' long ago as I clambered atop my desk during a Massachussetts snowfall. Silly fool, Jason. A smiling, happy, innocent, silly fool. I remember Norman Wainwright passing me a couple of 'snow-seeds' as I tearfully left 55 Millfield St. Throw them in your back garden and snow will soothe your sorrows. Unfortunately:
1) I lost the 'snow-seeds'
2) Singapore with snow? A physical impossibility.
3) I completely forgot about them soon enough.
Then there was that wonderful day a couple of years ago at Westminster when we had an inch of snow - oh the joy of it all! I could just burst from the sheer happiness of the thought. A dusty white covering that gives the soul a nice clean covering, at least for a while. Lost in the winter joy. Few things can compare, even when your gloves are drenched and your old leather shoes sodden.
Insecurity again.
"You'd make a great Dad, Jason. You'd just confuse the living hell out of your kids with big words." Sarcasm? A compliment? A friendly jibe? Don't over-analyse, Jason - it's just an expression. If I take what people say with 100% confidence in their full earnestness - I'd be a lost case (possibly already am). Not to do so would imply lack of trust. Then again, why do I even care about this? There are so many other more important things to worry about...
What am I doing this summer? Exams? The play, which is next week? Boutonniere deformities? Home? Keeping up with the Joneses (everybody, really)? The adequacy/lack of/overdoing my dietary intake? Friends (or lack/mistrust thereof)?
Sometimes the sheer complications bog me down so much - I just long for that nice, happy time...that dreamy (probably non-existent) long ago - of naps, snacks, hugs and competing with my brother at card games. That's life - we can't have it all.
Then there are worries - the future - what does it hold? The more questions one asks, the less likely the answers are to satisfy. The pressure - it boils up, one procrastinates, time dwindles until we are a mere streak of our former selves as the sundial's shadow creeps towards the end we fear. Losing inspiration to 'get on with it' - the drive is fading. Strength, O Lord, strength and courage to endure!
I tell people that life is peachy. Red and inflamed, yes. Soft and juicy, no.
The mind is a network of jumbled thoughts - there is only one thing to do. Grit those teeth, grind that feeble enamel and steel ourselves for the night ahead. No other way. Enjoy every moment of it and just remember that the big, bad world is beautiful still.
Confusion reigns, Destiny calls, mindless pains will cease as night falls.
Remember - hope springs eternal. I hope.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
All ye faithful...
It's interesting to note the different responses of the Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches to their respective crises; briefly, the Orthodox priests were covering up legal/bribery/corruption scandals and several Catholic priests (I'm sure you have heard) seem to have had a penchant for paedophilia. The Greek Orthodox church seems to have faced up to its responsibilities; Archbishop Christodoulos acknowledged, apologised and is now trying to atone for the sins of the clergy. Meaning no disrespect to the ailing Pope - what exactly is going on in Rome? Hardly any changes or punishments seem to have been effected. Trivial, but true. I'm appalled and yet, encouraged by the stance in Athens. That ought to be the way; identify the problem and (don't just nip it in the bud) crush it with a heavy lead-lined boot. Yeah. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/4276395.stm
Time for a little discreet blubbering...
"In any fight, it's the guy who's willing to die who's gonna win that inch...and I know that if i'm gonna have any life...it's becuase i'm still willing to fight and die for that inch." Life is indeed a game of inches.
I'm a little confused. Rather crudely, let's spread life out like a timeline; past, present and future. We can dwell on the past, cry 'carpe diem' and seize the moment or look ahead towards the future. Most people accept some permutation of the three and I fully acknowledge each has its own merits and problems. However, I just think it's a little more complicated than that...too often little things (and great things, too) complicate matters. What of love? Tragedy? Loss? Success? They throw us into a state of confusion, boundaries are breached and what was once clung to unyieldingly becomes a slippery pole lathered with grease. How do we live hedonistically, spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, even purely physiologically - or blend all of these abstractions into the sane beings we profess ourselves to be? 'Life events,' I belive they are sometimes referred to as. Argh. They dictate a response that may (temporarily) alter the balance of our past/present/future outlook on our lives and relationships with others.
Now for something less silly - INVEST IN AFRICA! You'll make money (Kofi Annan says so). Buy land in Africa; your sound investment will mature when 'the dark continent' starts drawing in the FDI that a soon-to-be (?!) prosperous India and China will be sploshing about.....it's time to make your great-great-grandchildren wealthy enough never to have to go through this hell that is the rat-race of willing enslavement - break free from the cycle and earn limitless cash! Buy into Africa!!! Personally, I want a nice chunk in the middle.
Time for a little discreet blubbering...
"In any fight, it's the guy who's willing to die who's gonna win that inch...and I know that if i'm gonna have any life...it's becuase i'm still willing to fight and die for that inch." Life is indeed a game of inches.
I'm a little confused. Rather crudely, let's spread life out like a timeline; past, present and future. We can dwell on the past, cry 'carpe diem' and seize the moment or look ahead towards the future. Most people accept some permutation of the three and I fully acknowledge each has its own merits and problems. However, I just think it's a little more complicated than that...too often little things (and great things, too) complicate matters. What of love? Tragedy? Loss? Success? They throw us into a state of confusion, boundaries are breached and what was once clung to unyieldingly becomes a slippery pole lathered with grease. How do we live hedonistically, spiritually, emotionally, intellectually, even purely physiologically - or blend all of these abstractions into the sane beings we profess ourselves to be? 'Life events,' I belive they are sometimes referred to as. Argh. They dictate a response that may (temporarily) alter the balance of our past/present/future outlook on our lives and relationships with others.
Now for something less silly - INVEST IN AFRICA! You'll make money (Kofi Annan says so). Buy land in Africa; your sound investment will mature when 'the dark continent' starts drawing in the FDI that a soon-to-be (?!) prosperous India and China will be sploshing about.....it's time to make your great-great-grandchildren wealthy enough never to have to go through this hell that is the rat-race of willing enslavement - break free from the cycle and earn limitless cash! Buy into Africa!!! Personally, I want a nice chunk in the middle.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Stop thinking about it and get on with it!
No comments unless you register. The sure way to lose a 'fan-base' but at least it'll keep me sane. Nehal's advice is truly sound. http://www.nehal-parmar.co.uk
I had a twenty minute power-nap this evening, from 6.10-6.30pm (my clocks run 5 minutes fast; the watch is 9 minutes fast, so I used a timer to avoid confusion). Found myself dreaming while semi-conscious. Rather scary thoughts - probably the accumulated lost hours. Lying there double-wrapped in my duvet 'dreaming' (or rather, deliberately stimulating REMs). One dream involved being stretched along a treadmilling microtubule; another involved a church wedding - just reading about Charles & Camilla - what a joyful couple.
I am often sidetracked by daily events; it's important to keep oneself grounded. We are simple medical students, trying to do our very best to become competent doctors who will be able to do the best they can for their patients.
This post is so incredibly mundane, I'm almost embarrassed. No inspiring thoughts just yet. We should learn more anatomy. I like mackerel. You can't beat Mother Teresa for sheer chutzpah. I wish there would be more Lord of the Rings films. Nope - the brain's running on empty now - it's time to leave off for a while. Time to get on with it. This blog is escapism, pure and simple - that's not particularly good for me.
I had a twenty minute power-nap this evening, from 6.10-6.30pm (my clocks run 5 minutes fast; the watch is 9 minutes fast, so I used a timer to avoid confusion). Found myself dreaming while semi-conscious. Rather scary thoughts - probably the accumulated lost hours. Lying there double-wrapped in my duvet 'dreaming' (or rather, deliberately stimulating REMs). One dream involved being stretched along a treadmilling microtubule; another involved a church wedding - just reading about Charles & Camilla - what a joyful couple.
I am often sidetracked by daily events; it's important to keep oneself grounded. We are simple medical students, trying to do our very best to become competent doctors who will be able to do the best they can for their patients.
This post is so incredibly mundane, I'm almost embarrassed. No inspiring thoughts just yet. We should learn more anatomy. I like mackerel. You can't beat Mother Teresa for sheer chutzpah. I wish there would be more Lord of the Rings films. Nope - the brain's running on empty now - it's time to leave off for a while. Time to get on with it. This blog is escapism, pure and simple - that's not particularly good for me.
CMM, misled, dropped on my head. Hypersensitive.
Everybody should keep a daily expenditure account; it's good to know where you've wasted your (Mum/Dad's) precious silver...
I suppose 'Adieu' has been given a temporary reprieve...for now.
I've become more verbose and (slightly) less eloquent; more rambling but (
Just finished a nice bout of immunology cud-chewing. 'Food for the brain' translates to heartburn on a cold evening when you're 82 and wonder why you happen to be better acquainted with actin microfilaments than than pretty fillies. Alas. Life's too short; I'm thinking long-term - we'll all (heaven willing) end up as decrepit oldsters in rattan/velvet armchairs(depending on whether you migrate to warmer climates because your seasonal cough might kill you - then again, the risk of DVTs on the flight there could land you in -gasp- a non-NHS hospital!).
Anyway - we future oldsters will at least be able to get on with the high-and-mighty business of being old; I figure I've gathered enough odd experiences (read this blog and double it with your imagination) to bore any potential stem-cell-engineered 'grandchildren' to cadaveric spasm with my ramblings. Why not start early? It's a tragedy when a 19-year old who (just a few hours ago) was bursting with excitement at the mere thought of being alive suddenly becomes bitter in the course of writing a few sentences because he can't face the truth and his pessimistic tendencies creep through a fissure from his brain into his writing. Argh.
I really didn't mean all that - I'm a happy person, remember?! I'm not kidding! I'm a simple git, a git, but a happy git, nonetheless and no matter what I say, I cherish - yes, CHERISH the mere fact that I am so alive (questionable) that I can crack bad jokes (jokes?!?!) about silly things, knowing half-well that people will read this and tell me that I'm weird. I can deal with that. Yeah, you sodding meanies - this is one oddball schizophrenic who defies your taunts; sticks and stones may break my bones, but then...I'll sue you (or your Mummy and Daddy or your trust fund or whatever corporate entity you've willed your eternal soul to for safekeeping).
There was half-moon lighting on tonight. Waxing, methinks.
The lunatic within me cried out:
Miracles on winter nights?
A figment of thoughts combined?
Repressing torture stills the mind;
I begrudge it not for it's true
Alone, here am I, thinking of you.
A five-liner, to complement the 8-liner posted earlier, below (blog post title: Parasite)
A lecturer & PBL tutor passed away on Tuesday. Vehicle accident. Prayers, thoughts and condolences to his family - it's distressing, especially when one remembers how merely a couple of months ago he was delivering a lecture with a video showing foot dorsiflexion to demonstrate the Babinski sign as he tickled his young baby daughter. The apparent randomness of the grim reaper's choice is quite unsettling; one's own mortality is questioned and the mere fact that 'life goes on' is both a source of comfort/coping and yet insanely frustrating.
CMM. MMC. 2100. 0012. Gematric, almost. Refers to today.
Oh sod that. Driven. To bed I go.
I suppose 'Adieu' has been given a temporary reprieve...for now.
I've become more verbose and (slightly) less eloquent; more rambling but (
Just finished a nice bout of immunology cud-chewing. 'Food for the brain' translates to heartburn on a cold evening when you're 82 and wonder why you happen to be better acquainted with actin microfilaments than than pretty fillies. Alas. Life's too short; I'm thinking long-term - we'll all (heaven willing) end up as decrepit oldsters in rattan/velvet armchairs(depending on whether you migrate to warmer climates because your seasonal cough might kill you - then again, the risk of DVTs on the flight there could land you in -gasp- a non-NHS hospital!).
Anyway - we future oldsters will at least be able to get on with the high-and-mighty business of being old; I figure I've gathered enough odd experiences (read this blog and double it with your imagination) to bore any potential stem-cell-engineered 'grandchildren' to cadaveric spasm with my ramblings. Why not start early? It's a tragedy when a 19-year old who (just a few hours ago) was bursting with excitement at the mere thought of being alive suddenly becomes bitter in the course of writing a few sentences because he can't face the truth and his pessimistic tendencies creep through a fissure from his brain into his writing. Argh.
I really didn't mean all that - I'm a happy person, remember?! I'm not kidding! I'm a simple git, a git, but a happy git, nonetheless and no matter what I say, I cherish - yes, CHERISH the mere fact that I am so alive (questionable) that I can crack bad jokes (jokes?!?!) about silly things, knowing half-well that people will read this and tell me that I'm weird. I can deal with that. Yeah, you sodding meanies - this is one oddball schizophrenic who defies your taunts; sticks and stones may break my bones, but then...I'll sue you (or your Mummy and Daddy or your trust fund or whatever corporate entity you've willed your eternal soul to for safekeeping).
There was half-moon lighting on tonight. Waxing, methinks.
The lunatic within me cried out:
Miracles on winter nights?
A figment of thoughts combined?
Repressing torture stills the mind;
I begrudge it not for it's true
Alone, here am I, thinking of you.
A five-liner, to complement the 8-liner posted earlier, below (blog post title: Parasite)
A lecturer & PBL tutor passed away on Tuesday. Vehicle accident. Prayers, thoughts and condolences to his family - it's distressing, especially when one remembers how merely a couple of months ago he was delivering a lecture with a video showing foot dorsiflexion to demonstrate the Babinski sign as he tickled his young baby daughter. The apparent randomness of the grim reaper's choice is quite unsettling; one's own mortality is questioned and the mere fact that 'life goes on' is both a source of comfort/coping and yet insanely frustrating.
CMM. MMC. 2100. 0012. Gematric, almost. Refers to today.
Oh sod that. Driven. To bed I go.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Parasite
I now blog until the 24th, that way I'll have truly completed a year online....
Someone seems to be under the impression that I was 'smitten' - according to a recent comment post; I must unequivocally state that they are, sadly, misled. I was 'starstruck' by the night sky as I attempted valiantly to scan through some lecture notes. Coupled with the usual silly thoughts of a post-pubescent youngster (not quite 20, yet) I must have written some rather silly nonsense.
Have just picked up a lovely book on parasitology; if there is nothing happening this summer (was initially thinking of going along on a canoe trip) then I shall endeavour to make those wee beasties my friends and 'close companions' for a month or two....I'm sure Daddy might know somebody who could do with a slimy fellow like myself....
Here's something useless to pass the time. I don't feel half inspired, but anything's better than nothing at all.
Caressed by waves in the
Arms of the sea,
Tickled by golden sand
Released, joyous, free ...and yet...
I would still seek, though
Oceans, part you from me
Near my heart still
Always, tis you I see
JH
Someone seems to be under the impression that I was 'smitten' - according to a recent comment post; I must unequivocally state that they are, sadly, misled. I was 'starstruck' by the night sky as I attempted valiantly to scan through some lecture notes. Coupled with the usual silly thoughts of a post-pubescent youngster (not quite 20, yet) I must have written some rather silly nonsense.
Have just picked up a lovely book on parasitology; if there is nothing happening this summer (was initially thinking of going along on a canoe trip) then I shall endeavour to make those wee beasties my friends and 'close companions' for a month or two....I'm sure Daddy might know somebody who could do with a slimy fellow like myself....
Here's something useless to pass the time. I don't feel half inspired, but anything's better than nothing at all.
Caressed by waves in the
Arms of the sea,
Tickled by golden sand
Released, joyous, free ...and yet...
I would still seek, though
Oceans, part you from me
Near my heart still
Always, tis you I see
JH
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Dreams
Do you ever dream?
I do. I often have odd, soul-searching dreams that seem to end in twisted fantasies, often belying my inner personality/insecurities...
e.g. being made a Knight of the Garter; being chased by demons, etc.
Now to memorise all of 10 lines for tomorrow...
I do. I often have odd, soul-searching dreams that seem to end in twisted fantasies, often belying my inner personality/insecurities...
e.g. being made a Knight of the Garter; being chased by demons, etc.
Now to memorise all of 10 lines for tomorrow...
Vale
Valentine's yesterday. I'm actually star struck as I write this - well and truly. Just fervently hoping it'll pass by tomorrow morning. Argh. Such pangs. Why me?
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Adieu
I write for the final time. The season for blogging is over; it is with an odd touch of emotion that I am about to discontinue this blog.
I shall post on the following dates:
30th April
24th June
20th August
Farewell for now.
JH
I shall post on the following dates:
30th April
24th June
20th August
Farewell for now.
JH
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Red Packets on cold nights. Mirabilis! A second chance!
I'm going to Brussels on Saturday morning.
I'm going to Cherie's birthday dinner this evening. Happy Birthday!
I'm going to the gym in five minutes.
My parents have left for Singapore.
My heart has left for Valentine's.
My mind has left my soul - all alone...
On Tuesday evening over a hearty Chinese New Year's Eve dinner with my family at the China Dream restaurant I informed my parents that the original 'Woman in White' story involved the hero being accosted by a woman dressed in white near Hampstead. It was bitterly cold and shortly thereafter we headed home, but just at the corner before the 'Creperie de Hampstead' stall my little eye espied a thick red wallet on the ground. We glanced around for the lady in the photograph - to no avail. The signalman at the tube station mentioned a police post 10 minutes from that very spot, but I tried again, at my father's urging this time calling out the name printed on the wallet's ID card....the eyes of onlookers queuing for crepes by the dozen bore quizzically into me but their ranks soon parted for a young lady and her two friends, who erupted in a joyous spasm upon seeing the wallet. Identity was confirmed and all was well.
All in all, a lovely red packet (hong bao) for a lovely young lady (not quite in white) on Chinese New Year's Eve. The walk home was just as cold, but our spirits were raised by the evening's splendid meal. Perchance some kind soul out there might take the trouble to return a pair of black Lowe Alpine gloves which I so cleverly lost that same morning?
I think Chinese people view food as something truly special. It seems to rule our consciousness. It is used a tool of punishment, coercion and reward. The underlying, base, animalistic, physiologically-based concept of "FOOD = GOOD" seems to permeate our thinking more than I have observed in other people...of course, this rather presumptuous generalisation can be easily disqualified, but not before another salt beef sandwich, monsieur.......
I was thinking about second chances. I've had a few in my life. To answer that I had to bring up another issue, which might seem unrelated:
Is ignorance truly bliss? I used to think so, but now I wonder. I hate pain - an existence without all of life's evils would be bliss indeed and yet without trials and tribulations we would not emerge fully 'formed'. Yadayadayada, I hear you say - old adages and twisted cliches. Ponder for a while - the knowledge of tragedy consumes the entire history of humanity; yet that same history is a marvellous paean to second chances - I know for certain that God gives second chances. I'm quite a resentful person and I tend to hold grudges, but I know that deep within me is that young 7-year old who tossed and turned at night after a quarrel with friends/parents/anyone else and would make that 11pm telephone call just to 'set things right'. With age, my 'loss of ignorance' made me eventually feel that true outward emotion is a waste of time and physical energy, a somewhat shoddy excuse for being aloof and detached. "Do not let the sun go down on your anger, forgive and forget, live and let live" - used and abused, these don't mean anything on their own. Knowing despair and hope, nightmares and dreams, and feeling burning joy in the deepest sorrow - it's miraculous we don't burst from the (thankfully physiologically contained) adrenalin rush. The cynic, I bore (in more ways than one, I like to think) - but the young lady lost a wallet, I lost a pair of gloves. Minor tragedies in the grand scheme of things, but she found a second chance on that cold night.
As for my second chance - in life, I hope - in hope, I trust - indeed, I trust that someday, it too shall come. I hope. I trust. Until then, I shall simply live.
Forgive the preaching - it's meant to be 'thinking' but I tend to get a little 'up myself' when I feel I'm coming to understand something.
I'm going to Cherie's birthday dinner this evening. Happy Birthday!
I'm going to the gym in five minutes.
My parents have left for Singapore.
My heart has left for Valentine's.
My mind has left my soul - all alone...
On Tuesday evening over a hearty Chinese New Year's Eve dinner with my family at the China Dream restaurant I informed my parents that the original 'Woman in White' story involved the hero being accosted by a woman dressed in white near Hampstead. It was bitterly cold and shortly thereafter we headed home, but just at the corner before the 'Creperie de Hampstead' stall my little eye espied a thick red wallet on the ground. We glanced around for the lady in the photograph - to no avail. The signalman at the tube station mentioned a police post 10 minutes from that very spot, but I tried again, at my father's urging this time calling out the name printed on the wallet's ID card....the eyes of onlookers queuing for crepes by the dozen bore quizzically into me but their ranks soon parted for a young lady and her two friends, who erupted in a joyous spasm upon seeing the wallet. Identity was confirmed and all was well.
All in all, a lovely red packet (hong bao) for a lovely young lady (not quite in white) on Chinese New Year's Eve. The walk home was just as cold, but our spirits were raised by the evening's splendid meal. Perchance some kind soul out there might take the trouble to return a pair of black Lowe Alpine gloves which I so cleverly lost that same morning?
I think Chinese people view food as something truly special. It seems to rule our consciousness. It is used a tool of punishment, coercion and reward. The underlying, base, animalistic, physiologically-based concept of "FOOD = GOOD" seems to permeate our thinking more than I have observed in other people...of course, this rather presumptuous generalisation can be easily disqualified, but not before another salt beef sandwich, monsieur.......
I was thinking about second chances. I've had a few in my life. To answer that I had to bring up another issue, which might seem unrelated:
Is ignorance truly bliss? I used to think so, but now I wonder. I hate pain - an existence without all of life's evils would be bliss indeed and yet without trials and tribulations we would not emerge fully 'formed'. Yadayadayada, I hear you say - old adages and twisted cliches. Ponder for a while - the knowledge of tragedy consumes the entire history of humanity; yet that same history is a marvellous paean to second chances - I know for certain that God gives second chances. I'm quite a resentful person and I tend to hold grudges, but I know that deep within me is that young 7-year old who tossed and turned at night after a quarrel with friends/parents/anyone else and would make that 11pm telephone call just to 'set things right'. With age, my 'loss of ignorance' made me eventually feel that true outward emotion is a waste of time and physical energy, a somewhat shoddy excuse for being aloof and detached. "Do not let the sun go down on your anger, forgive and forget, live and let live" - used and abused, these don't mean anything on their own. Knowing despair and hope, nightmares and dreams, and feeling burning joy in the deepest sorrow - it's miraculous we don't burst from the (thankfully physiologically contained) adrenalin rush. The cynic, I bore (in more ways than one, I like to think) - but the young lady lost a wallet, I lost a pair of gloves. Minor tragedies in the grand scheme of things, but she found a second chance on that cold night.
As for my second chance - in life, I hope - in hope, I trust - indeed, I trust that someday, it too shall come. I hope. I trust. Until then, I shall simply live.
Forgive the preaching - it's meant to be 'thinking' but I tend to get a little 'up myself' when I feel I'm coming to understand something.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
From the sulci to the gyri
I've just watched 'The Woman in White' musical....enjoyed it immensely.
"Whenever I look at you the world disappears; all in a single glance so revealing. I believe my heart, what else can I do? I believe my heart there's no other choice...and with all my soul I believe my heart." Somewhat sentimental, I know.
I'm utterly amazed by the site counter statistics - 21 people visited my blog yesterday. Incredible! They might be one-hitters, but I'm thrilled nonetheless.
Crepes in Hampstead tomorrow. Delicious......
Less than a week before Valentine's now. Perhaps I might get lucky. You never know...
Now for those inevitable (extremely) randomly-spiralling thoughts.
The stress is slowly mounting as examinations draw nearer. No silly talk this year (see the earliest few posts) of gory battles and moonlit sojourns across dreary plains of revision. This is one time I shall remember to enjoy what I'm actually learning. Just taking the bus can make me so aware of how easily I despair of humanity - a bunch of useless, heartless, calculating wretches. In that instant one tends to forget that one is counted in that morass of greed, sloth, pride and disgusting banality. It's so very easy to forget the essence of being; the eternal hope of the Almighty himself is reflected in each of us - kindred spirits, somehow. It doesn't sound 'streetwise' or even completely sane, but innocence and the willingness to trust is a greater virtue than most would care to consider. I make hammed-up presumptions on the human condition, ranting about how depraved we are. My latest posts have been chock-full of blatant self-immolating gushy anti-self invective, e.g. 'I want to be more idealistic' and 'I'm not totally honest with myself' etc. Assuming this isn't just a ploy for readership/sympathy, I just want to shift the direction towards the 'small happy' things. We have to see what is good in others, something I too often fail to bother to do. I can confidently say that we have to retain a measure of hope - it just doesn't die. Use it as a mirror to cast some light on the good and happy things; those memories tingled with regret, those bittersweet reflections on that dim past that is really so very vivid we have to blur it just to be able to comprehend how much we long for the chance to change or re-live it - don't process those memories like a meat-grinder, Jason - just look, listen and learn - do whatever you do with more passion than you can muster and that joy will agglutinate into solid lumps of sweetness that you can taste forever. I've managed to somehow acquire a taste for the bittersweet - "xian ku, hou tian" as we say in Chinese (first bitter, then sweet) - it's time to start chewing the toffee-apples with the kimchi and pickled gherkins!
Oh yes - Happy Chinese New Year! The Year of the Wood Rooster, I believe. Hurrah for the hen-houses...
"Whenever I look at you the world disappears; all in a single glance so revealing. I believe my heart, what else can I do? I believe my heart there's no other choice...and with all my soul I believe my heart." Somewhat sentimental, I know.
I'm utterly amazed by the site counter statistics - 21 people visited my blog yesterday. Incredible! They might be one-hitters, but I'm thrilled nonetheless.
Crepes in Hampstead tomorrow. Delicious......
Less than a week before Valentine's now. Perhaps I might get lucky. You never know...
Now for those inevitable (extremely) randomly-spiralling thoughts.
The stress is slowly mounting as examinations draw nearer. No silly talk this year (see the earliest few posts) of gory battles and moonlit sojourns across dreary plains of revision. This is one time I shall remember to enjoy what I'm actually learning. Just taking the bus can make me so aware of how easily I despair of humanity - a bunch of useless, heartless, calculating wretches. In that instant one tends to forget that one is counted in that morass of greed, sloth, pride and disgusting banality. It's so very easy to forget the essence of being; the eternal hope of the Almighty himself is reflected in each of us - kindred spirits, somehow. It doesn't sound 'streetwise' or even completely sane, but innocence and the willingness to trust is a greater virtue than most would care to consider. I make hammed-up presumptions on the human condition, ranting about how depraved we are. My latest posts have been chock-full of blatant self-immolating gushy anti-self invective, e.g. 'I want to be more idealistic' and 'I'm not totally honest with myself' etc. Assuming this isn't just a ploy for readership/sympathy, I just want to shift the direction towards the 'small happy' things. We have to see what is good in others, something I too often fail to bother to do. I can confidently say that we have to retain a measure of hope - it just doesn't die. Use it as a mirror to cast some light on the good and happy things; those memories tingled with regret, those bittersweet reflections on that dim past that is really so very vivid we have to blur it just to be able to comprehend how much we long for the chance to change or re-live it - don't process those memories like a meat-grinder, Jason - just look, listen and learn - do whatever you do with more passion than you can muster and that joy will agglutinate into solid lumps of sweetness that you can taste forever. I've managed to somehow acquire a taste for the bittersweet - "xian ku, hou tian" as we say in Chinese (first bitter, then sweet) - it's time to start chewing the toffee-apples with the kimchi and pickled gherkins!
Oh yes - Happy Chinese New Year! The Year of the Wood Rooster, I believe. Hurrah for the hen-houses...
Monday, February 07, 2005
Juvenile Delirium
Before the caspases drive me completely insane I thought I'd just take the opportunity to relay an odd assortment of things. Odd things have happened lately and I dare not trouble the reader too much but to beg him/her to cast their eye over these few musings of mine. Pardon the excess of quotes; for better or worse I'm rather quote-happy today...
Over a lovely (but rather fiery/spicy) Hunanese dinner I was told:
"Tomorrow, you will have lost today, and you were never happy yesterday." Carpe diem indeed. Wise words. I may never be 'happy' but I can jolly well try; after all, according to Mr Emerson, "Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail!"
Let's try to keep a sense of idealism alive. As a cynic I know it's incredibly difficult; nevertheless one ought to try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained...I was reading a slightly pious article a couple of nights ago. One thing struck me, however - "the steadfast morals which fill his heart and the unwavering truth that is his soul allow him to apply temporal yet unmistakable traits" seem to be characteristics I would love to have the courage to strive for...
(quote pulled from Remembering the Reason)
My brother is such a wonderfully joyous little sod it's utterly unbelievable. Hilarious to the point of being nearly seriously no longer funny...some people shine sunbeams from their eyes and the only thing that can dampen their day seems to be a (parentally-imposed but poorly enforced) limit on chocolate intake.
Think kindly of me. It's less a pitiful soul's silent plea than a tyrant's machiavellian tirade. Nonetheless I would have it this way. Thanks.
For sheer length's sake I'll add a strange little poem of mine. Cheap entertainment value!
The Rant of a Madman
11th January 2005
By Jason Ho
The world is going to end soon. I never thought so, but the moon
Seems not to shine very much and I somehow can’t see such
A bright glow from the midday sun.
Life’s too short for endless worry. When it’s over, you can only be sorry
For that which you didn’t do. I don’t suppose that to you
That matters too much either.
Rhyming giblets and dashes of verse fail to speak plainly of worse
Things drowning in sombre prose. Wordy tales of secret woes
Are not yarns spun by grandmothers.
That which shall be is now to come, for the final sum
Of our sins falls short today. Borrow tomorrow’s yesterday
And I’ll forfeit a splendid wager.
Doom befalls the proud, blinded by that gilded shroud
Veiling cataracts rumbling with guilt. Aye, your shame would wilt
The brightest innocent flower in Elysium.
Hefty purses drip heavenly alms for beggars whose palms
Lie outstretched and supine. Is theirs a happy fate to dine
In indigent ignorance of tragedy?
Fear, for the wise man is lost! His are dreamy passions within a tossed
Heart that drowns out pleas for reason. Alas, a very treason
Against the seat of justice!
I shall not pronounce much longer, for I am aware of your anger
At the splendid truth I bravely tell. Not a clanging bell
Am I, but an umpire of life’s final match.
Hear me, here, me, sirs – the oaths you swear are false, oh, curse
The riches in your coffers! Pounds are pennies, dollars
Will fall like dimes into street gutters.
By what wherewithal is this future drawn? I, at the rosy dawn
will gaze below at pools azure, which like your future secure
Will dissolve into muddy puddles.
Over a lovely (but rather fiery/spicy) Hunanese dinner I was told:
"Tomorrow, you will have lost today, and you were never happy yesterday." Carpe diem indeed. Wise words. I may never be 'happy' but I can jolly well try; after all, according to Mr Emerson, "Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail!"
Let's try to keep a sense of idealism alive. As a cynic I know it's incredibly difficult; nevertheless one ought to try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained...I was reading a slightly pious article a couple of nights ago. One thing struck me, however - "the steadfast morals which fill his heart and the unwavering truth that is his soul allow him to apply temporal yet unmistakable traits" seem to be characteristics I would love to have the courage to strive for...
(quote pulled from Remembering the Reason)
My brother is such a wonderfully joyous little sod it's utterly unbelievable. Hilarious to the point of being nearly seriously no longer funny...some people shine sunbeams from their eyes and the only thing that can dampen their day seems to be a (parentally-imposed but poorly enforced) limit on chocolate intake.
Think kindly of me. It's less a pitiful soul's silent plea than a tyrant's machiavellian tirade. Nonetheless I would have it this way. Thanks.
For sheer length's sake I'll add a strange little poem of mine. Cheap entertainment value!
The Rant of a Madman
11th January 2005
By Jason Ho
The world is going to end soon. I never thought so, but the moon
Seems not to shine very much and I somehow can’t see such
A bright glow from the midday sun.
Life’s too short for endless worry. When it’s over, you can only be sorry
For that which you didn’t do. I don’t suppose that to you
That matters too much either.
Rhyming giblets and dashes of verse fail to speak plainly of worse
Things drowning in sombre prose. Wordy tales of secret woes
Are not yarns spun by grandmothers.
That which shall be is now to come, for the final sum
Of our sins falls short today. Borrow tomorrow’s yesterday
And I’ll forfeit a splendid wager.
Doom befalls the proud, blinded by that gilded shroud
Veiling cataracts rumbling with guilt. Aye, your shame would wilt
The brightest innocent flower in Elysium.
Hefty purses drip heavenly alms for beggars whose palms
Lie outstretched and supine. Is theirs a happy fate to dine
In indigent ignorance of tragedy?
Fear, for the wise man is lost! His are dreamy passions within a tossed
Heart that drowns out pleas for reason. Alas, a very treason
Against the seat of justice!
I shall not pronounce much longer, for I am aware of your anger
At the splendid truth I bravely tell. Not a clanging bell
Am I, but an umpire of life’s final match.
Hear me, here, me, sirs – the oaths you swear are false, oh, curse
The riches in your coffers! Pounds are pennies, dollars
Will fall like dimes into street gutters.
By what wherewithal is this future drawn? I, at the rosy dawn
will gaze below at pools azure, which like your future secure
Will dissolve into muddy puddles.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
Semper fi
I'm going to make this a brief post as I'd quite like some sleep before the long day ahead. Of course, that's my own problem!
It seems people know me better than I thought. I humbly acknowledge that I have probably underestimated them.
Most grateful to those who have listened/'positive feedback loops.' Change is on its way and it is borne well indeed - simplicity, honesty and plain old fashioned goodness. Keeping it sane, all the time.
By the way - if anybody knows any interesting tidbits of Central Asian info, do let me know. Always keen for updates on the Turkmenistan ice palaces and their keep love of melons...
I find it necessary to pontificate for a short while on humility.
Humility. It keeps us sane. We should boldly proclaim to others our beliefs and thoughts and the exchange of ideas makes life a truly enriching experience but I'd be an honest fool if I wasn't aware of my own shortcomings whilst defending those ideals I cherish. The old proverb 'too humble is half proud' may ring true, but I keenly argue in favour of humility whenever possible - it sharpens the jagged edges of what can be a rough demeanour.
Just for a brief detour - these rather oddly compartmentalised ramblings might sound like somebody losing his mind or a high-speed train of thought on a collision course with a reality buffer that it's been trying to avoid. I'm trying to say that if I suddenly sound 'idealistic' in my relentless, cut-throat drive for 'the bottom line' i.e. the incredibly strained, inarticulate, verbose efforts to reach my goal of SIMPLICITY AND HONESTY IN COMMUNICATION, then I make no apology, for I am merely trying to shed some 'crust.' Open parlance and skeptical criticism has never harmed societies; I venture to add that this is becuase the thoughts encoded in such seemingly straightforward arguments has never encumbered those with sufficient 'sleight/agility of mind' to discern deeper meanings that lie buried therein....if you know what I mean...
That detour doesn't seem to have led very far...how the night flies, disappearing with the morning mist. Thoughts tumble and I am resolved. At last. At long, long last.
btw - OK - did I ever send you any of that promised doggerel?
It seems people know me better than I thought. I humbly acknowledge that I have probably underestimated them.
Most grateful to those who have listened/'positive feedback loops.' Change is on its way and it is borne well indeed - simplicity, honesty and plain old fashioned goodness. Keeping it sane, all the time.
By the way - if anybody knows any interesting tidbits of Central Asian info, do let me know. Always keen for updates on the Turkmenistan ice palaces and their keep love of melons...
I find it necessary to pontificate for a short while on humility.
Humility. It keeps us sane. We should boldly proclaim to others our beliefs and thoughts and the exchange of ideas makes life a truly enriching experience but I'd be an honest fool if I wasn't aware of my own shortcomings whilst defending those ideals I cherish. The old proverb 'too humble is half proud' may ring true, but I keenly argue in favour of humility whenever possible - it sharpens the jagged edges of what can be a rough demeanour.
Just for a brief detour - these rather oddly compartmentalised ramblings might sound like somebody losing his mind or a high-speed train of thought on a collision course with a reality buffer that it's been trying to avoid. I'm trying to say that if I suddenly sound 'idealistic' in my relentless, cut-throat drive for 'the bottom line' i.e. the incredibly strained, inarticulate, verbose efforts to reach my goal of SIMPLICITY AND HONESTY IN COMMUNICATION, then I make no apology, for I am merely trying to shed some 'crust.' Open parlance and skeptical criticism has never harmed societies; I venture to add that this is becuase the thoughts encoded in such seemingly straightforward arguments has never encumbered those with sufficient 'sleight/agility of mind' to discern deeper meanings that lie buried therein....if you know what I mean...
That detour doesn't seem to have led very far...how the night flies, disappearing with the morning mist. Thoughts tumble and I am resolved. At last. At long, long last.
btw - OK - did I ever send you any of that promised doggerel?
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
A polite request
Could whoever posted the third comment on my most recent blog posting please let me know your identity. I'd be very grateful. You can just email jason.ho@imperial.ac.uk - Thank you.
Other news - Ivan Noble passed away, aged 37. Very sad to hear about it. Tragedy. That's why we should spare no effort in cancer research. Everything should be done to find cures. It's rather sad to hear about his demise.
Our Crucible rehearsal was moved to the basement corridor of the Reynolds this evening...turfed out by the fashion show, the Tamil society and wind sectional rehearsals.
The latest and greatest - Gray's Anatomy for Students (2005) by Drake, Vogl and Mitchell - hurrah! A wonderful textbook, methinks. I'm going to try scanning quickly over it and shall endeavour to report again on whether it's worth buying... A lovely cover, though. Stunned my eye.
Other news - Ivan Noble passed away, aged 37. Very sad to hear about it. Tragedy. That's why we should spare no effort in cancer research. Everything should be done to find cures. It's rather sad to hear about his demise.
Our Crucible rehearsal was moved to the basement corridor of the Reynolds this evening...turfed out by the fashion show, the Tamil society and wind sectional rehearsals.
The latest and greatest - Gray's Anatomy for Students (2005) by Drake, Vogl and Mitchell - hurrah! A wonderful textbook, methinks. I'm going to try scanning quickly over it and shall endeavour to report again on whether it's worth buying... A lovely cover, though. Stunned my eye.
A little bit about me
I am NOT psychologically depressive - I'm quite a happy person, really. I'm feeling rather relaxed after a tense hour and a half bobbing up and down in water as I attempted to play water-polo. Anatomy classes tomorrow are greatly looked forward to.
For those who wish to look at me in the same light they always have - read the post prior to this ('Arteries and Veins', below).
Otherwise, read on.
Dear All,
First of all - I apologise for sounding pretentious. I often forget that the world does not revolve around me - 'time and tide wait for no man.' Indeed.
Secondly - this is just me thinking out loud, in print. It's inherently selfish, but I'm coming clean. I hide a lot of things and this isn't always a good thing. I think I have a slight 'multiple-personality' thing going here, but while I'm still in this lucid (or not-so-lucid, as it may seem later) phase, I ought to shed what light I can on the truth.
I hurt easily, but I recover slowly - a mass of fibrotic tissue that gives me a false tough exterior. People don't like me because of it - how else (besides looks/snobbishness/false pretenses/etc) do you explain my lack of a girlfriend at the age of 19? Read on.
I don't like revealing much about myself - I have seen it as a sign of weakness; revealing too much exposes potential weaknesses. A 'cover-up' has seemed best. That's not necessarily true; the truly strong are able to face their faults and amend their shortcomings. I resolve to do this. I hope this little self-review will works, since I'm so incredibly blind/deaf to peer-review.
I compensate for my inadequacies by blaring my achievements, at least to myself. I have therefore seemed somewhat overbearing and may undermine the efforts of others to communicate with me. I am not a good communicator in general.
I expose my own faults in order to gain sympathy for myself. Note the overuse of 'I' - I'm rather selfish - you may/may not have noticed, but I do tend to push my own agenda through any possible means. I am willing to give in on many, many accounts - but when I have an interest at stake/if something is dear to me, I will kill to get my piece of the pie. No holds-barred.
I might seem affable/genial at times - it's probably a front. Shock or not, if I can't stand something I'm often so tight-lipped I'll gladly oblige them and complain behind their back in secret coded-messages in my blog. A lot of stuff remains unwritten, because while I'm writing entries I'm blasting that person/issue in my mind - little pseudo-hints in the blog just trigger that memory - 'catharsis' I often call it. It's probably not very good for me.
I need to be more open and less angry. Somehow. I need to hate less and love more. I need to keep my last shreds of humanity and genuine - I mean GENUINE! GENUINE! GENUINE! concern, close to the very core of my being. I need to see people for who they are and I resolve to be the same Jason I once was - the same, less dispassionate, less privately-opinionated-but-publicly-facetious snob. I will be less aloof and more caring. I have used ruthlessness like a rusty dagger and I must now clean that blade, resheathe that awful weapon and just BE MYSELF. That crate of bottled-up emotions is going to be smashed inside.
Those ounces of 'wrong' against me have been repaid with tonnes of malice on my part. I carry a terrible terrible load that I can't really write about here - I cannot, unfortunately bring myself to put it down - it's a bit like a clot in the brain - if you thrombolyse it, you risk haemorrhage - utterly fatal. That problem I shall carry to my grave, but why should I penalise myself for the sake of my 'problems'? They're probably imagined, built-up and over-analysed anyway. Some say 'get a grip, Jason' - to them, I reply - I think I have. I have indeed. I have not lost myself - I've found that part of me that's been slowly dying this past half-decade - I'm becoming honest with myself again.
By the way - I don't know why I'm saying this - please, please, please - if you ever think of doing anything - just make sure you do the right thing and cherish your life for it is of a worth beyond all measure. Just live. Just live. Just live - it's not easy, it's not simple, but it's worth it.
Sincerely,
JH
For those who wish to look at me in the same light they always have - read the post prior to this ('Arteries and Veins', below).
Otherwise, read on.
Dear All,
First of all - I apologise for sounding pretentious. I often forget that the world does not revolve around me - 'time and tide wait for no man.' Indeed.
Secondly - this is just me thinking out loud, in print. It's inherently selfish, but I'm coming clean. I hide a lot of things and this isn't always a good thing. I think I have a slight 'multiple-personality' thing going here, but while I'm still in this lucid (or not-so-lucid, as it may seem later) phase, I ought to shed what light I can on the truth.
I hurt easily, but I recover slowly - a mass of fibrotic tissue that gives me a false tough exterior. People don't like me because of it - how else (besides looks/snobbishness/false pretenses/etc) do you explain my lack of a girlfriend at the age of 19? Read on.
I don't like revealing much about myself - I have seen it as a sign of weakness; revealing too much exposes potential weaknesses. A 'cover-up' has seemed best. That's not necessarily true; the truly strong are able to face their faults and amend their shortcomings. I resolve to do this. I hope this little self-review will works, since I'm so incredibly blind/deaf to peer-review.
I compensate for my inadequacies by blaring my achievements, at least to myself. I have therefore seemed somewhat overbearing and may undermine the efforts of others to communicate with me. I am not a good communicator in general.
I expose my own faults in order to gain sympathy for myself. Note the overuse of 'I' - I'm rather selfish - you may/may not have noticed, but I do tend to push my own agenda through any possible means. I am willing to give in on many, many accounts - but when I have an interest at stake/if something is dear to me, I will kill to get my piece of the pie. No holds-barred.
I might seem affable/genial at times - it's probably a front. Shock or not, if I can't stand something I'm often so tight-lipped I'll gladly oblige them and complain behind their back in secret coded-messages in my blog. A lot of stuff remains unwritten, because while I'm writing entries I'm blasting that person/issue in my mind - little pseudo-hints in the blog just trigger that memory - 'catharsis' I often call it. It's probably not very good for me.
I need to be more open and less angry. Somehow. I need to hate less and love more. I need to keep my last shreds of humanity and genuine - I mean GENUINE! GENUINE! GENUINE! concern, close to the very core of my being. I need to see people for who they are and I resolve to be the same Jason I once was - the same, less dispassionate, less privately-opinionated-but-publicly-facetious snob. I will be less aloof and more caring. I have used ruthlessness like a rusty dagger and I must now clean that blade, resheathe that awful weapon and just BE MYSELF. That crate of bottled-up emotions is going to be smashed inside.
Those ounces of 'wrong' against me have been repaid with tonnes of malice on my part. I carry a terrible terrible load that I can't really write about here - I cannot, unfortunately bring myself to put it down - it's a bit like a clot in the brain - if you thrombolyse it, you risk haemorrhage - utterly fatal. That problem I shall carry to my grave, but why should I penalise myself for the sake of my 'problems'? They're probably imagined, built-up and over-analysed anyway. Some say 'get a grip, Jason' - to them, I reply - I think I have. I have indeed. I have not lost myself - I've found that part of me that's been slowly dying this past half-decade - I'm becoming honest with myself again.
By the way - I don't know why I'm saying this - please, please, please - if you ever think of doing anything - just make sure you do the right thing and cherish your life for it is of a worth beyond all measure. Just live. Just live. Just live - it's not easy, it's not simple, but it's worth it.
Sincerely,
JH
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