Surprise

. . .Out of nowhere, my friend gives me a chocolate bar and before I have a chance to respond he leans in and plants two deep, wet, passionate kisses.  Taken aback and slightly flustered, I asked what was going on.  And as it turned out, this little episode of romance was nothing more than a typo.  Ah, MSN+, how we adore thee.

Vigilance

. . .This weekend was relatively fun.  Friday evening I did ... ... A whole lot of nothing.  *thinking*  I was up 'til 7:00am doing God-knows-what.  I don't even remember anymore... But it wasn't terribly productive.  Finishing a series, maybe.  Only one person stayed online and kept me semi-company, which was kinda cool, but...
. . .Woke up on Saturday at 9:30am.  Extraordinary, considering the fact that I simply did not get enough sleep.  I blame the sun.  It's always that curséd flaming ball in the sky.  Anywhoo, I did another whole lot of nothing 'til around 9:00pm, at which point I left for Air's place on campus.  Did some studying there... sorta.  Managed to make him half-study Japanese inbetween Calculus.  Which is something I'd just like to forget.  Or the University part of it anyways.  Math itself is always somewhat fascinating.  We get to prove silly things like for any positive integer k, the number 8k-1 can never be expressed as a sum of three squares.  (e.g. a²+b²+c²)  It's an elegant proof, but I've yet to see this little mathematical nugget applied in the real world.
. . .Aaaanyways... We then did some piano-hopping, then ended up at my place, at which point I think we tried to do some more work.  He managed to do some Calc in any case, while I did some number theory.  Not sure if I got one of the questions right 'cuz I solved it highschool-style, which I'm sure is legit, but he probably wanted us to solve it using some more advanced math crunching machines... Crashed at around 6:00am, while he was playing FF7 on the computer.................
. . .Next morning, I woke up at 9:30am.  Again, because of the sun.  Curséd sun.  Meanwhile, Air slept semi-soundly, though I felt bad that he was using his backpack as a pillow... If only I had an extra blanket... Anywhoo, I somehow got the urge to find some hilarious flash movies that were shown to me in my frosh term.  Though you really gotta be in the mood.  It's definitely not something I'd always find funny.  But it has its fair share of American wit.  And I spent about my first hour just going through them all.... there's three sites for your viewing pleasure, all equally hilarious:
www.makingfiends.com
www.big-bunny.com
www.muffinfilms.com <- this was the one that was shown to me last year.  The previous two were made by the same hand, but I think they were made later.  Anyways, go through the eps and enjoy!  The randomness is just pure gold!
. . .*ahem* Right.  So ehh... Air finally stirred at around noon, and I tried feeding him food.  But being a University student who barely ventures into the kitchen, I didn't really have much to offer... ^^; But yah.  We managed to study, I took an hour nap at like, 4:00pm, then did some more computer fun.  Integrals, whee!  Photoshop + tablet, double whee!  It's amazing that I was able to stay awake for so long this weekend.  It might have partly been because of the presence of another human; can't really sleep in the presence of others.  Anywhoo, Air took his leave at around 2:00am, at which point I just simply collapsed on my bed.  ...And woke up this morning at 8:30am.  Damnéd solar source of shine... Made my wake-up call at 9:00, and now just lazing about in 'cyberspace' until noon... ...And I guess thus concludes my weekend.  I barely have anything to show for it, except maybe that my excess in sloth should be some sort of cause for concern to prompt me to go into hyper-gear and start mass-producing stuff for my deadlines.  Must..keep... eyes... open... I'm still tired... :'(  And I'm *positive* that I'm going to fall asleep in class again...

Whirl

. . .Gosh, I hate this new blogger interface.  Even the "edit HTML" option screws things up so I don't have technical control over how I want to layout this text.  So ghey...
. . .Anyways...  School work is winding down though I should really finish a certain short story... ... and a certain essay... ...I don't even want to think about starting the culture research essay thing. @_@  Aside from the scary prospect of starting my thesis, it's just worrying about housing for next term, where I go for my Masters/PhD and what I could possibly do after I finish all this school... Meanwhile, I'm wasting more time in AdobePS... haha... check out what I have so far [here] !  I littered it with my personal comments, but if you agree and stuff, let me know!  We've already established that the head is very deformed.  Well, I'd best get back to work...

Silent Hero

He stands alo'e in winds that flow,
. . . . . .Gazing at the moon, 
He says not a word, eyes trailing night bird, 
. . . . . .As it sings its lonesome tune.
We've been friends for a year, or so 'twould appear,
. . . . . .Though rare had we words exchanged;
For the fact of the matter - that there was no laughter
. . . . . .Caused me to grow quite deranged.
Although we were men, the difference in ken
. . . . . .Was akin to gold and copper,
His life had no limes, while I lived through hard times;
. . . . . .He and I: the prince and pauper.
In attempt to break silence I fill æther with violence
. . . . . .Of a fury of wit and word,
But n'er he replies with gestures or smiles
. . . . . .As if he hadn't heard.
One day it was late, using tragedy as bait,
. . . . . .I hoped to evoke a response
"That's not good" said he, with neither malice nor glee
. . . . . .Throwing the conversation askance.
On through time we sail, though not a single veil
. . . . . .Of his person is lifted to me,
In depression asunder, I think in its thunder
. . . . . .That he from this friendship longed free.
My destitution grew, stomach small as a shrew
. . . . . .Though not a word I said to him
For I knew he detested my poverty uncontested
. . . . . .Loathing both my life and limb.
Stormclouds garnered about, my deathbed no doubt,
. . . . . .To herald the end of my days,
But out from the shadows came forth my mute hero
. . . . . .Reviving me from my daze.
Upon ashes I lay, unable to say
. . . . . .The love that I carried for you,
He pressed upon my lips, his shadow eclipsed,
. . . . . .Breathing in me life new.
With life given from grace I longed to embrace
. . . . . .My stoic yet loving hero,
It's through deeds not speech that he others' hearts reach
. . . . . .The sill of the soul's window.
But as quick as he came, he was gone again
. . . . . .Without saying adieu,
As if expelled from Heaven, posessing virtures seven,
. . . . . .He left behind a pleasant millieu.
I wanted to thank him in act, but remembered that tact
. . . . . .Demanded a stoic attitude,
And so I back down, from my plan to drown
. . . . . .My hero in gratitude.
Hence today have I strifed, with God-given new life
. . . . . .Ever grateful to he who has saved,
He'll never know, though I wish it were so,
. . . . . .That his kindness I'll someday repay.

Tablet

     Yay!  I have a tablet!  ...Only, not really 'cuz it's my friend's.  But for the meanwhile, I get to use a tablet on my compy.  Lotsa fun.  Mmmm.... this should probably go in my dA journal, but oh well.  :P

Frustration II

. . .Spent a while on that translation. Just to find that the ending is quite scandalous! In a Joseph-Tam-cannot-endorse sort of way. Her actions are simply without morals and I'm just simply shocked at how somebody could write something like that and call it a short story.
. . .Now, I realize that I hail from a time when there was such a thing as "polite society" and "polite reading", but is it necessary to load a story with promiscuity to assure sales? Authors just simply don't try the same way they used to. Grr... Meanwhile, I've now gotta choose between two of the other short stories. One's 7 pages and the other's 11 pages, but these are large pages... probably equal to double that number in normal paperback novel size.

Extinction

. . .Why should one care about how others feel? It's all about "me" and what "I" get out of it. My principles and values are no longer the primer for this worldly society. They have been slaughtered by their own brothers. Nobility are a thing of the past. Manners and etiquette have long died out. That which was once known as tact and decorum have become extinct.
. . .Perhaps it's time for me to follow suit.

Tamed

. . .Someone once said that I spewed things that others couldn't hope to conceive in a lifetime. That was five years ago. Now I don't spew anymore, but I wonder if it's because of a drop in mental activity, or a sign of maturity.
. . .Am I simply calmed from my former years of juvenille frustration, or has something slain my spirit? Being a pauper certainly has its drawbacks. And I always did find an appreciation for chaos. It may be less organized, but it allows one more suceptible to a wider range of ideas and concepts. Afterall, logic is a man-made construct. Most religions call us to love, not rationalize. To help the needy, not be pragmatic.
. . .I used to be so obsessed with intelligence etc. Wanted to be a Mensa member. My friends believed I could, and one eventually did become a Mensan. I took the test the same time he did, but I didn't do so great in the language section. I won't go into the details of my results because although they were impressive, they weren't good enough for Mensa. And this is from an age when I still actively studied whatever I wanted.
. . .Truely, it is true that one should cherish one's youth. For Time stops for no man. And although intelligence is apparently not my redeeming quality, surely there must be something in this world that's perfect for me. Linguistics? Or actual communication?
. . .Guh. No time to think; gotta work... Ah, the cruel truth of living in this modern world that we've created for ourselves.

Flow

. . .I had the most extraordinary nosebleed yesterday. And just when I was about to head to class. Oh, the irony. So anyways, this river of blood just comes flowing forth from my small left nostril, and so I rush to the washroom to try to clog it with some tissue -- the asian way. Only after two minutes, I notice that the tissue is getting really heavy and it sorta falls out on its own. And all the blood that was being blocked up until that point starts pouring forth with vigor. So I rush back to the washroom and just sorta lean over the sink for a while, letting the blood flow. and flow. and flow.
flow.
. . .Anyways, at some point I start having some visibility problems with my left eye and so I rub it. But as the blood continues to flow, my left eye remains irritated. I look up into the mirror and see that my left eye is now crying blood, which was clouding up my contact lens. So I awkwardly took out, washed and returned my contacts into their case while avoiding that constant stream of life that betrayed me. Oh, treacherous vitae! But because I had now changed my position, the bloodflow sorta shifted too, so it started pouring out of both nostrils. Ah, what a sight.
. . .If only I had a camera. That one shot when I looked into the mirror could have been used (with a proper caption) to have made quite the statement. But alas, I have no cybernetic implants. Or techie friends on hand. But that image will probably remain with me for a while. And I'll always have my sketchbook. Mmm... red marker... :P
. . .Anyways, I obviously ended up missing class, and I probably lost a good litre of blood... I was feeling rather weak for the rest of the day. But I had Japanese TAing that evening... Wednesdays are always fun.

Truth

. . .Reality is what one makes of it. At first, I didn't really understand that sentiment. That one's reality is real if one were delusional? Is one foolish for choosing to regard a situation as positive, when it's "clearly" negative?
. . .But then, that's not exactly the correct line of thought. Because that's simply personality. One prefers blue and therefore enjoys sunny days. But what of history? Surely, history is a form of reality, so concrete that it is almost inarguable. Except that we do. Was the French revolution a good thing? Were the Chinese really brilliant 5000 years ago? And that's when I realized it. Reality is what one makes of it. Choose one aspect of something and exemplify it. Samurai - honour. Nevermind that they were stiff-necked men who prefered suicide over survival. They had a man-made concept of honour, and they stuck with it. The willow or the Oak? The willow bends to the wind and therefore grows, but at least the mighty oak stood firm until the bitter end. < clichés con't > The brave may not live long, but the cowardly do not live at all. < /cliché >
. . .And never mind politics. The sublimal messages that American films carry -- Russians, Chinese are bad, Canadians are ignored... England, Japan and Israel are of some consideration. (I saw Independence Day last night on TV.)
. . .But anyways, I can't afford to think too deeply, I've a midterm to study for and some other assignments to complete, as well as my translation project. Dammit...